


Classic

by Skyson



Series: Classic [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, In Love, Late Night Conversations, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Phil Coulson, POV Simmons, POV Skye, Rescue Mission, Sex Pollen, Sex in a Car, Smut, Tuxedos, and having fun, confused Simmons, in the office, matchmaker May, no bdsm, safe house, skoulson sexytimes, stereotypical scenes, there's not really a plot, tied up, under a desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various one-shots of Skye/Coulson. Some of them are first-times, some of them are established. Some are angsty, some are fluffy, some are just ridiculous crack!fic...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Desk

Jemma knocked lightly on the door, waiting patiently with her tablet in her hand for Coulson to let her into his office. She heard a muffled thump, and frowned. Raising her hand to knock again, she was startled when the door suddenly opened.

“Come on in,” Coulson called from his desk, a pleasant look on his face. She approached his desk and sat in one of the chairs across from him, looking at him curiously.

“Is everything alright, sir?” She asked, and he nodded.

“Of course, Jemma. Everything’s – fine.” The end of his sentence was slightly clipped, but he just sat there and looked at her with that same look on his face. “What do you need?” He asked her.

“Well, I’ve been doing some research into the Guest House serum, as you’ve asked,” She began, and he nodded, “And I wondered if I could run some experiments? Using a sample of your blood, and a sample of Skye’s?”

“What kind of experiments?” Coulson asked, brow furrowed slightly. She thought she saw his eye twitch slightly.

“Mostly to see how it interacts when different things are introduced to it. Blood thinners, etcetera. And, perhaps, if I could get some mice…” Simmons trailed off, observing Coulson. “Sir, are you alright?” She asked again, and he raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“Of course,” He said, “Why wouldn’t – ” He breathed in shortly through his nose, almost like a sniff, “– Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart rate appears a little fast. Are you experiencing any discomfort?” Simmons wondered, getting into doctor mode.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Coulson said, with that tiny smirk still in place. His voice was a little tighter than usual, however, and she frowned slightly. “I’ll look into the mice.” Coulson said suddenly, in his ‘you’re dismissed’ voice, and Simmons stood immediately out of habit, though she hesitated.

“Sir… if you’re not feeling well, just stop by the lab. We have all kinds of medication.” She said, and Coulson nodded. Something flashed across his face, but it was so quick, she couldn’t catch it.

She wished she was more like May; May would have been able to read him easily. Or perhaps Skye. Skye seemed to know everything about Coulson and exactly how to handle his odd moods.

“Thank you,” Coulson said quickly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Simmons gave him another weird look when he sighed, and headed toward the door. She opened it, but she turned back around, remembering something else. He sat up straight in his chair, as if he had been slouching when her back was turned.

“Oh, sir, if you don’t mind stopping by the lab sometime soon so I can get a fresh blood sample? And please let Skye know as well, when you see her?” Simmons asked, and Coulson nodded quickly. Simmons noted how his hands, which had been resting on top of his desk this entire time, now seemed to press firmly against the top, his fingertips turning white.

“Of course – ” His voice hitched, “ – of course, Simmons.”

She frowned at him as she stepped out the door, but didn’t question him further and closed it carefully behind her.

“What a peculiar man.” She mused as she walked down the hall.

\-----

As soon as the door closed, Coulson groaned and slouched back into his chair, rolling it away from the desk.

“I can’t _believe_ you just did that,” He halfheartedly scolded Skye, who was looking up at him with amusement and a coy smirk.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” She shrugged lightly, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Well I couldn’t exactly say much with Simmons in the room, could I?” He snarked back. She put her hands on his knees and pulled him back toward her.

“It was kind of hot,” She mused, and he groaned, running his fingers through her hair.

“Says _you_. _You_ weren’t the one having to look someone else in the eye while someone had their mouth around your – ” He made a garbled sound when she returned to doing just that, and he groaned and closed his eyes, sliding down his chair even further. He managed to slap his hand against the door lock command on his desk, and then he slid the rest of the way off of the chair with a growl, pushing Skye to the floor and crawling on top of her. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.


	2. Handcuffed

Skye was just outside of the doorway when she heard a muffled curse, and she raised her eyebrow.

“Everything alright, AC?” She asked as she entered his office, and then halted in the middle of the room. Coulson gave her a sheepish look.

“Don’t you dare say anything.” He warned her, and her eyes widened slightly as she stared at him.

“How – how did you manage this?” She wondered, speaking carefully so that he didn’t think she was teasing him. She kept her feet planted where they were, unsure whether to approach him or not.

He was sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out in front and the other bent, as if he were attempting to stand. His hands were behind him, and from the way his arms were pulled slightly and his position in front of the leg of his desk, she assumed correctly that he was handcuffed.

“May and I got in a fight.” He admitted, frowning slightly. Skye’s eyebrows shot up suggestively, and he scowled at her. “Not like _that_ ,” he said dryly.

“So… what, did she knock you to the floor, handcuff you to your own desk, and then order you to sit there and think about all the bad things you’ve done until somebody _happened_ to stop by your office and rescue you?” Skye mused, and Coulson hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said, and Skye bit her lip as she tried to hide her smirk. “She put the key right up on the desk. Just out of my reach, of course…” He complained, trying to twist around to peer over the edge of the desk.

Skye watched the way his dress shirt stretched over his torso, and leaned her head to the side as she considered her options. He noticed that she hadn’t moved yet, and turned back toward her with a perturbed look.

“Well?” He shifted his shoulders, as if it were obvious that she should now uncuff him.

Skye allowed the smirk to cross her face, and Coulson frowned slowly.

“How long have you been sitting there?” She asked, stepping toward him carefully.

“Probably not as long as May would have liked,” he admitted, “but I have you to thank for that.” He gave her a suspicious look when she crouched down in front of his bent knee. “Don’t I?”

“Hmm,” Skye mused, looking him over slowly.

“Skye,” He warned, seeing the playfulness in her eyes.

She gave him an innocent look, and reached around to tug on the cuffs. They didn’t budge, much, and when she leaned back she had a pleased look on her face. She saw his eyes lift up from –

“AC,” She scolded lightly, interested in the way that his ears flushed red before his face did. His gaze darted to the side and he pinched his lips together. She decided to let him off the hook about that, for now anyway, and she scooted back closer to his feet. He seemed to relax somewhat, until she put her hand on his ankle. He flinched and looked at her quickly, narrowing his eyes.

“Since you’re probably going to be here a while, I should at least make you comfortable,” She shrugged, pulling at his shoelace. He moved to jerk his foot away from her, but she held tight onto his ankle. _And, honestly – he’s much stronger than that. He’s not even really trying._ He was making a good show of it, though. She grinned at him as she untied his shoe and carefully pulled it off of his foot.

She’d never noticed how big his feet were, before. Or how shiny his shoes were. She wondered how he kept them so spotless in this line of work.

Setting the shoe off to the side, she looked at his other foot, and then raised her eyebrow toward him. He hesitated for a moment, and, watching her carefully, slowly stretched his other leg out so she could reach his other shoe. She smiled at him as she removed this shoe, running her hand up his ankle underneath his pant leg a little. He stiffened and stared at her hand, an anxious look in his eyes. Skye removed her hand and carefully placed that shoe along with the other one, neatly off to the side.

“I would be comfortable if you would uncuff me,” Coulson told her, speaking as if there had been nothing at all questionable about her actions. Skye pursed her lips and shook her head as she moved closer to him, the side of her leg just touching his thigh. Coulson warily watched her movements.

“May is my SO now, remember. I’d rather her not be angry with me. If she handcuffs _you_ to your desk for an indeterminate amount of time, I’d hate to see what she would do to me if I piss her off.” Skye reached her hand out toward him, and he flinched, though there was nowhere for him to go, and his back thumped against his desk. Skye raised her eyebrow at him, holding her hand in the air between them.

“Don’t you trust me?” She asked, and he grimaced.

“I – yes, of course – but,”

“Alright, then,” Skye said, as if that finalized everything, and she grasped the knot of his tie, pulling it loose. Coulson’s eyes widened and he stared up at her.

“What are you doing?” He asked sharply, but she caught the way his nostrils flared and his pupils darkened ever so slightly.

“Like I said. Making you comfortable.” Skye replied simply, using both hands to pull the knot out of the tie. She slid it slowly out from his collar, and he took a deep breath. He squeezed his fingers tightly, pulling slightly at the cuffs. “Wow,” Skye said, holding the tie up and admiring it, “this is _nice_.” She rubbed the fabric between her fingers for a moment, and then folded it carefully and placed it on top of the desk. She set the key to the handcuffs on top of it, but Coulson couldn’t see from his angle. When she focused back on Coulson, his gaze was less suspicious and more curious.

“I’m the _Director_ of SHIELD,” Coulson told her, using it as a threat, but his voice was anxious, and she didn’t take him too seriously.

“Yes.” She said, on her own momentum now, reaching back toward his collar before she really thought about unbuttoning it. He let out a short hiss when her fingers brushed against his neck, and he swallowed. She stopped at the third button, knowing that he was sensitive about the scar on his chest. “Hmm,” Skye said appreciatively of the newly exposed skin, pressing her finger against his collarbone.

“Mm,” Coulson shifted, and he had an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Oh, of course. I know you like your sleeves rolled up when you aren’t wearing your jacket.” Skye said, tapping her own forehead as if she had forgotten something silly. He was curiously silent as she took her time on each arm; undoing the cuff, pressing her fingers lightly against the smooth skin of his wrist, rolling up the sleeves expertly. When she was finished with one sleeve, she ran her fingers lightly down his forearm toward his wrist before focusing the same careful attention on the other sleeve.

When Skye sat back to admire her work and give a satisfied nod, a myriad of emotions crossed his face before he settled on something almost like _longing_. Skye leaned her head to the side again, her curious look much softer this time, and she gently placed her hand just above his knee.

“What did you and May fight about?” She asked quietly, genuinely concerned, and Coulson swallowed and focused on answering her.

“You,” He admitted, giving her a guarded look. She didn’t pull away, and only seemed more curious. “May…” He sighed, and closed his eyes as he told her, “May had made a comment that I didn’t quite follow at the time. She’d said, _‘Maybe your luck will hold out and it’ll be Skye that finds you.’_ I …” Coulson sighed, opening his eyes again. He looked apologetic, and Skye raised her eyebrow at him. “May believes I am … behaving inappropriately with you.”

“So she tied you up for me to find and do what I want with?” Skye furrowed her brow. That didn’t sound like May at all. Coulson made a strangled noise, and Skye realized the implications of what she had said. “Sorry,” She said half-heartedly, giving him a sheepish smile.

“May believes that our _sexual tension_ is more dangerous than if we were to actually be _having sex_ ,” Coulson said dryly, and Skye swallowed, licking her lips. _Hearing Coulson say ‘sex’ was probably the best thing ever. Next to his arms, of course._

“Are you saying Agent Melinda May is playing matchmaker?” Skye said in disbelief, and laughed. Coulson looked perturbed, and maybe even a little miffed.

“Are you saying she’s bad at it?” He snarked, and Skye realized that he was more invested in this moment than she had originally thought. _Perhaps he’s as invested as I am_.

“Not at all,” She said seriously, and quickly straddled over him, holding her head very close to his. “I think she’s _excellent_ at it. I’ve always wanted to take off your suit,” She breathed, and this time his reaction was very obvious.

His breath hitched loudly and he froze, looking at her closely and carefully, afraid that she may still be teasing him. She smiled and brushed her nose against his, pressing her hands against his chest and sliding them down his abdomen.

“Mmm,” He sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his chin up, but she pulled away just enough so that their lips didn’t touch. He frowned, his brow furrowed and his eyes still closed.

“Wow, AC,” Skye said appreciatively, “You know how to rock a suit, but they don’t quite do you justice.” She pressed her hands more firmly against him, feeling the contours of his muscles, and slid her hands up to his shoulders and down his arms. This action put her face closer to his again, and after he groaned quietly she lightly kissed him. He made a pleased sound and leaned his head forward, capturing her lips again.

When she felt his tongue brush against her bottom lip, she pulled away, and he instinctually leaned forward to follow her, his wrists catching and the handcuffs clinking together. He opened his eyes and looked at her, his face all softness. She smiled at him in the same way, except her eyes held a glint of mischief, and her hands were at his waist, sliding across his shirt. He shifted his shoulders again, wanting out of the handcuffs, and she shook her head slowly, grinning at him.

“Skye,” he growled warningly, and she bit her lip. _Okay, I definitely like him saying that even more than him saying ‘sex’._ Her palm pressed against the bulge in his pants, and he looked up to the ceiling before closing his eyes for a long second. He shifted his hips underneath of her, and Skye’s entire body tingled. She leaned in to kiss him again, her hand still palming him through his trousers, and this kiss quickly became intense and a little dirty, and he wasn’t even _touching_ her.

“Geeze,” She gasped, leaning back for air, and his look was all smugness and arousal. “If I knew you kissed like _that_ , I would have jumped you a long time ago.”

“You don’t even know me kissing you, Skye. Not yet.” Coulson replied darkly, and Skye was almost too surprised that he was talking dirty back at her to be turned on by that. _Almost._ She bit her lip and grinned at him.

“Care to show me?” She said cheekily, sliding back off of his thighs and removing her hand from his crotch. He frowned as she stood, brushing her thumb across the corner of her mouth. “That is, if you manage to get out of your current… predicament.” She took a step back, and he jerked his wrists against the desk.

“Skye!” He warned, and she moved further away from him, toward the door.

“I’ll be in my quarters,” She teased him, and he growled her name again, pulling at the cuffs once more. Skye hesitated, tempted to just grab the key and do it right here in his office, but she knew that this wasn’t a private enough room. Somebody could walk in at any given moment, and a locked door would be suspicious.

“ _Skye_ ,” She heard as she slipped out of the door, and it was all she could do to contain herself as she walked down the hall toward her room.

Seven and half minutes after she had picked up her tablet and laid down to mindlessly scroll through the internet, Coulson was standing in her doorway, looking rather harried.

She raised her eyebrows at him and set her tablet on the bedside table slowly, giving him as much of a curious innocent face as she could muster.

“Let’s see how you do with _your_ hands tied up.” He said, closing and locking the door behind him and approaching her bed. She noticed he hadn’t even bothered to put his shoes back on, but he was holding his tie in his fist.

She looked back up into his eyes and grinned, and he grinned in return, pulling his belt off and tossing it to the side as he climbed over her.


	3. The X-Files

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's all fluff. Apparently, The X-Files puts me in a cuddly mood.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" Skye mused from the corner of the couch. She saw Coulson hesitate - he hadn't noticed her in the room - but she didn't call him out on it. She knew that he was too weary to be teased right now.

"Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Coulson asked instead, flipping on just the lights over the bar, so as to not blind them both.

Skye shrugged, fiddling with the frayed edges of the blanket she had thrown over herself. The lounge was usually cooler than their quarters; she'd learned this weeks ago, back when she first started moving into this room when her own bunk wasn't doing justice.

Sometimes she slept in the SUV on the Bus, too, but after a particularly horrifying dream that involved hijacking and kidnapping once again, she felt too vulnerable there and settled for the couch in the lounge.

Coulson poured himself a glass of something and, without needing to ask, came over and sat down next to her on the couch. She was curled up, her feet on the cushion in the middle, and she made sure he had some room, tugging the blanket closer to her. She immediately felt much more at ease than she had upon first entering the room, and she propped her elbow on the cushion, her head against her hand so she could face him comfortably.

"Would you like something?" He asked, frowning a bit, as if he thought he was being rude. Skye shook her head.

"No. I usually just watch an episode or two of The X-Files, and crawl off back to my room right before I pass out." Skye admitted to him, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

" _The X-Files_?"

She had to admit, that wasn't the part she expected him to be surprised about. She shrugged again, looking defensive.

"I like it."

“But it's all about government lies and cover ups," he pointed out, and Skye smiled slowly.

"You know what it's all about, huh?" She teased, and he scoffed, raising his glass to his lips.

"I'm not the one who insists the government should stop hiding everything," He muttered after taking a drink, and Skye laughed.

"We both know that statement's not entirely true, anymore," She reminded him, and he hesitated for a moment before raising his glass in a sort of salute of acknowledgment.

"So," he set his glass down on the coffee table, "you make a _habit_ of hiding in the lounge, watching X-Files without the lights on?"

"I was hoping you hadn't caught that," Skye admitted, and Coulson had a teasing look in his eye.

"I'm a SHIELD agent. I catch everything." He said it as if it was an old, dried out mantra they used to learn as cadets. And maybe it had been; she would never know, now. She was Level One in the scraps of an agency that no longer existed, where they were basically living in an underground bunker in some unknown location. Granted, the way Coulson handled things - handled her - the hierarchy didn't really matter as much anymore.

He probably didn't think that she knew, but she was aware that he was much more open with her about his plans than he was with any of the others. A part of her - a large part - selfishly hoped that maybe it was because he felt for her the same things that she felt for him....

"Skye," Coulson said, pulling her out of her reverie, "Have you been dealing with insomnia?" His voice was soft, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Not..." Skye hesitated. She didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't want him to worry about her, either. He already had way too much on his plate. "I... Sometimes, I have dreams..." She admitted, looking away from his eyes. "Ward had threatened to take me, to... Sometimes I dream that I'm stuck on the Bus again, with him."

"I'm sorry, Skye." Coulson said sincerely, knowing that only time would help that fear diminish. He reached for her foot next to him, resting his hand on top of it comfortingly. Skye flinched a little, not expecting physical contact, but didn't pull away. She met his gaze again. He rubbed his thumb against the skin on her ankle; he probably meant it as a comforting gesture, but it sent little jolts through her and she needed to pull herself away before she did something embarrassing.

"I don't have those dreams very often," She said truthfully. _Other nights, I hear you screaming, begging to die, and I wake up crying because in those dreams I never reach you in time._ "Usually I just simply can't sleep. Too much on my mind, I guess. A good two episodes of X-Files generally does the trick." Skye smiled lightly, trying to take the heaviness out of the room. Coulson looked at her for a minute, and then gave her a small smile.

"Would you mind if I joined you, tonight?" He asked, and she smiled more easily, swinging her feet to the floor to stand and move toward the television shelf. His hand had tingled when it slipped off of her foot, but she tried to ignore that.

"There's always room for AC," She glanced over her shoulder at him, grinning, and he looked pleased. "Hope you don't mind; we're in season two." _How quickly and easily "me" becomes "we", with you._ She grabbed the remote and settled herself back onto the couch, this time sitting forward with her legs stretched onto the coffee table. Once she got the episode going, she unfolded the blanket more and held an edge toward him.

Worry flashed across his face, and she gave him a wry look.

"Just asking if you want some blanket, AC, it's not the next UN treaty," She said dryly. He hesitated another moment, but eventually reached out for the fabric, pulling it across his legs and propping his ankles up on the table as well. Skye noticed him relax significantly, and he had that tiny smile on his face again. "See," She said, "Double the body heat and extra toasty." She settled into the cushions and focused on the tv.

"We're a lot like they are, aren't we," Skye mused after the first couple of scenes. Coulson raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Except, instead of aliens, it's more in regards to the system. See," She turned a little to face him as she explained, her knee brushing against his. "There's you, who wants to believe in SHIELD so much that it sometimes blinds you to the real truth. And there's me, the skeptic." He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she continued quickly, "But you've opened my eyes to the possibility of SHIELD. You know I never would have stayed, if it weren't for you," she told him seriously, and he looked touched.

"What about your file?" He reminded her, and she shrugged with a devilish grin on her face.

"I would have found other means to figure out where I came from, of course. That was always the plan." She took a breath, then added, "What wasn't the plan - meeting you."

"Getting kidnapped?" He teased, and she laughed, nudging him with her hand.

"Definitely hadn't planned on that," She agreed, and he grinned. "Hadn't planned on helping SHIELD, much less joining the ranks." They were silent for another few moments, until Coulson spoke solemnly,

"I'm glad you've joined the ranks, Skye." She turned back toward him, a little surprised by his seriousness. "Even if there isn't really any SHIELD left, I'm still glad you agreed to join our team. And making Level One... I was really proud of you," he told her, sounding disappointed that he hadn't said so sooner.

"I knew you were," Skye smiled carefully. "I could see it in your eyes." Coulson looked curious, but turned back toward the television before speaking again.

"Maybe we are a bit like Mulder and Scully." He conceded. "You've helped me open my eyes, too, Skye. I was blinded by my trust, and with Hydra in the ranks... It could have gotten us killed. But it didn't. Because you forced me to question the system, Skye, and that _saved us_."

"I felt bad for a while after that argument... Seeing how betrayed you felt by them... I felt like I had taken that away from you." Skye admitted, and Coulson reached for her hand under the blanket.

"They had betrayed me the moment they decided to perform those experiments, mess with my memories, set me up for this whole deal with the Bus and my own team... You were the wild card they hadn't planned for, and you helped me see what they were doing. _You_ weren't the one to take anything away from me. If anything... You've _given_ to me."

"What could I have possibly..." Skye began in disbelief, and Coulson squeezed her hand.

"Hope. Faith in humanity. Friendship. Trust." He stopped, but there was something in his eyes, something that told her there were other things too, things he wasn't saying. _But maybe that's just me being wishful._ She smiled lightly, the room feeling heavy for different reasons this time, and she shifted closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He seemed quite open for a hug, and pulled his hand from hers to wrap his arm around her.

She began to think they were verging on _inappropriate_ , but she was very comfortable and he didn't seem to want to pull away, so she settled against him. She felt his other hand brush against her leg lightly, and she smiled a little, knowing he was searching for her hand. She rested her palm on top of his thigh and he sighed, putting his hand on top of hers and threading their fingers together a little. She glanced up out of the corner of her eye and saw that pleased smile on his face again, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face in response. She focused back on the television.

 _Inappropriate, indeed._ She bit her lip to force the grin away.

\-----

Turns out, with Coulson as a tv buddy, it only took one episode to put her to sleep.

She blinked slowly, confused for a moment. She'd never fallen asleep in the lounge before, and certainly not before finishing at least one episode of X-Files. She was very warm, and couldn't move much, so she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The television screen was black, which meant the episode had ended quite a bit ago.

Someone sighed against her temple, and she froze. _Coulson!_

She was tucked between the back of the couch and his body, and generally she would find this predicament to be rather fantastic, but right now she was concerned about how he would react.

_But, wait. Think._

His arms were wrapped around her, holding her against him, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breaths. He was fast asleep, and she didn't want to wake him up, knowing that he hadn't been sleeping any better than she had lately.

And from their positioning, he had to have been the one to lie them down like this. Perhaps he had realized she was asleep, and shifted so that he could be more comfortable as well?

 _But why didn't he just wake me up, tell me to go to bed? Why did he decide to... Snuggle?_ She snorted, and he grumbled and pulled her even closer against him. One of her arms was under his neck, and the other trapped under his own arm. Normally, such little range of movement would make her start panicking (that's been a thing since the kidnapping... She hadn't told anyone about it, though). However, now she only felt comforted, peaceful, and safe.

Even if it was a little ridiculous to think that she was _snuggling_ with the Director of SHIELD. She bit her lip not to snort again, and opened her mouth in indignation when she noticed that he had taken off his jacket, tie, and shoes.

He had _chosen_ to stay here, with her. On the couch. She stared at him with wonder for a few minutes, and then smiled slowly.

"We're gonna have more to talk about, later, mister." She whispered very quietly, curving her arm around the back of his head carefully to brush her fingers through his hair. She relaxed slowly, allowing her body to fall into the sleep it needed.

A few minutes passed, and Coulson squinted his eyes open. He smiled when he discovered she was snoring very lightly.

"Yes. We will." He whispered.


	4. Sex Pollen

Skye and Coulson are sitting in his office, discussing organization plans for the Playground, when alarm bells start going off signaling a problem in the lab. They look at one another sharply and both stand, but they don’t reach the door before noticing pink wisps of something floating through the air vents into the room.

“Damn it,” Coulson says, shutting the door and locking them in the room. Skye looks at him with alarm.

“Shouldn’t we get down to the lab? Figure out what’s happened?” Skye wonders, and Coulson moves back to his desk and begins typing frantically on his touchpad.

“The alarms are indicating ….” Coulson trails off as he stares at the screen, and Skye notices his jaw clench. She takes a worried step toward him.

“What is it?” She asks quietly, assuming the worst.

Skye observes Coulson as he makes a call to the lab. There’s a twitch on his face, his hands are curled at his sides, and his breathing is shaky.

If she wasn’t so intently focused on him, she would notice her own erratic heartbeat and clenched fists.

“Fitz,” Coulson breathes out as soon as there’s connection, sounding much more calm than he looks, “Did you just infect my plane with sex pollen?”

“Uh…” Fitz’s voice sounds strangled, nervous, and Skye stares at Coulson with wide eyes. _Sex pollen?_ Is that a thing? Like, a _real_ thing?

“Fitz.” Coulson gets out sternly, his voice almost a growl, and Skye swallows.

Woah, when did the heat suddenly start pooling into her gut?

“I can’t categorize it officially as a sex pollen until Jemma gives an opinion,” Fitz blurts out, which is the truth. “And she’s a little, ah… sir, we’ve both been compromised.” Fitz sounds like the sorriest puppy Skye has ever heard, but she forgets that when Simmons speaks,

“My professional opinion is that you should hang up that phone right now before Agent Coulson overhears something I’d rather him not hear.”

There is a heavy silence as Skye stares at Coulson with raised eyebrows, Coulson squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and Fitz makes another strangled noise.

“I’m sorry, Sir! Just – please, warn the others. Get everyone to lock themselves away until this passes.” Fitz moans, and Skye sucks in a breath, shifting her feet.

“Will this pass on its own?” Coulson demanded quickly. Skye could see his hands shaking.

“Yessir!” Fitz sounds faraway now.

“How long?” Coulson asked, and there was no reply. “How long?!” He demanded, but the only response was a crash and more noises that made Skye close her eyes and swallow. Coulson hurriedly shut off the connection and clicked the intercom button.

“Everyone, seclude yourselves away immediately,” Coulson cleared his throat, shook his head, continued, “Seclude yourselves in your rooms until this has passed. It will – it will pass.” He had no idea where Tripp and May were, and only hoped they were able to put themselves somewhere safe. He pulled his finger off of the intercom and gripped the edge of his desk, his head down, breathing heavily.

Skye’s breaths were matching his, and couldn’t tear her eyes off of him, though she felt frozen to the spot.

“Sex pollen?” Skye breathes out, staring at him, “Is that a real thing?”

There is a long moment of silence where he doesn’t answer her.

“You tell me. How are you feeling right now?” He grits out between his teeth.

Skye wants to feel his voice vibrate against her.

She takes a step back in surprise, but actually, she steps toward him instead.

He looks up at her sharply, aware of her moving closer. There is warning in his eyes, but his chest is heaving.

“I’m going to lock myself in my bathroom.” Coulson tells her very carefully, but he doesn’t move at all, doesn’t look away from her. His eyes are boring into her, and her skin tingles all over.

“You should. It probably hasn’t hit us as hard because we are further away from the lab,” Skye speaks as if she were in a dream, her eyes on his lips.

“Don’t move,” He tells her, and neither of them have budged an inch in the past minute and a half, so really, what’s he worried about? She nods, staring at his lips, and he stands up straight very slowly, making careful, catalogued steps toward the door in the corner of the room. She feels herself leaning toward him, but she does as he asked and keeps her feet planted firmly in place.

The door clicks shut behind him, and she doesn’t breathe out a sigh of relief until she hears the lock click. Not that she was worried about him – on the contrary, she was worried about what _she_ would do. He’d always held a sort of attractiveness to her, and it had only been growing more and more as they spent more time together discussing plans for the future of the Playground and the future of SHIELD. She’d been keeping it under wraps fairly well, in her opinion, and she didn’t want to ruin what they had.

Though, this would be the perfect excuse, wouldn’t it? _Sorry, Sir, it was the sex pollen. I was drugged._

No, no. She wouldn’t want it to be like that. She would want _him_ to want it, as well. And not because of some air pathogen. She let out a growl in frustration, clenching her fists tightly enough that her nails dig into her palms. There’s a noise from the bathroom, and she steps toward it, worry furrowing her brow.

“Sir? Are you okay?” She asks, listening carefully. Hearing nothing, she steps closer to the door, pressing her ear lightly against it. “AC?” She asks.

Coulson moans very lightly in response, closing his eyes. She was standing right outside of the door. He knew it couldn’t be physically possible, but he felt like he could smell her, like she was standing right next to him.

“Don’t come in,” He orders quickly, taking a step away from the door.

“You locked me out.” Skye replies, sounding hurt.

Coulson frowns. He didn’t want to hurt her, that wasn’t his intention at all. That was his whole _reason_ for putting a locked door between them. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation…

Though it would be the perfect excuse, wouldn’t it? _I’m so sorry, Skye. I tried to fight it._

No, no. He would never want it to be like that. Of course not. He would want it to be romantic; dinner, maybe dancing, driving around in Lola, a nice hotel room, champagne…

He groans, pulling off his suit jacket. It was getting much too warm, and his thoughts were betraying him. There is some sort of sighing sound from the other side of the door, and he steps toward it again.

“Skye?” He asks, worried for her.

“ _Coulson_ ,” Skye’s voice is pleading, very lightly, and she slides down the door to sit against it, biting her lip. Her body tingles so much it’s almost painful, and whenever she moves, the fabric of her dress whispers across her skin and makes her think of his hands doing the same thing.

Coulson can tell by the sound of her voice that it is getting worse for her, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, sitting on the closed toilet seat lid. He can’t stop his body from reacting to the noises she is making, and his pants are starting to get a little uncomfortable.

“Mmm,” Skye sounds frustrated, Coulson can hear her through the door, and he can only imagine what she looks like right now. Leaving it up to his imagination is almost making it worse.

He doesn’t know how much time goes by. All he knows is how agonizing it is. He’s lost his shoes, socks, and tie by this point. His skin felt burning hot, and any small movement made the fabric of his trousers brush against his ever-persisting erection.

“ _Coulson_ ,” She was begging by this point, pawing at the door. Either that, or it sounded like she was rubbing against the door, which –

“Ungh,” Coulson pressed his front against the door, the slight pressure against his cock something of a relief. The knowledge that Skye was right on the other side of the door… He only felt himself grow harder. He growled in frustration, and heard her moan in response.

“ _AC_ ,” She pleaded.

“Skye,” He warned, his voice tight, catching. His hand at the front of his trousers without him realizing it.

“ _Phil_.”

He almost lost his resolve right then; his right hand clenched the doorknob when he felt his left dip beneath the waistband of his trousers. He brought his right hand from the door to unbuckle his belt, allowing a little more freedom, and he sighed a little in relief. He jerked his left hand out of his pants before he touched himself, clenching his fists and pressing them against the door.

Skye squirmed where she sat on the floor, her back in the corner half against the door and half against the wall. She’d taken her panties off a few minutes ago; the fabric almost painful rubbing against her sensitive skin.

She heard the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle and moaned, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against the door. It felt cool against her heated skin. Her imagination was beginning to run wild, and it was not helping her situation at all.

“Phil, _please_. I _want you_.” She finally admitted, a low whine in the back of her throat. She was much too flustered to feel embarrassed about her admission.

Coulson’s entire body twitched when he heard her, and his hand grasped at the doorknob again of its own accord.

“ _I want this to be real_.” He ground out, his resolve quickly crumbling.

“I’ve _always_ wanted you,” She made a keening noise, sounding both highly aroused and as if she were about to cry.

He wrenched the door open and stared down at her, eyes all dark and chest rising and falling quickly. She let out a noise of wanting relief and grasped at his calves, pressing her cheek against his knee. She tugged, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stand, and pulled him down toward her.

Immediately he pressed his lips against hers; hard, dirty, intense, and it was like sweet relief and a push over the edge all at once. Both of their hands were hurried, everywhere; she unbuttoning his dress shirt as he lifted her dress up and over her head. As soon as her arms were free she focused back on his shirt and he reached down to pull at her panties –

“ _Skye_ ,” He hissed, realization as his fingers brushed across the bare skin of her hips, and she grinned, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. He quickly shook it off and sat up, bringing her with him, reaching around her back and unclasping her bra. She opened his trousers, her hands dipping in and working his cock free from his briefs. He fumbled brushing the bra off of her shoulders and pressed his face against her neck when her fingers wrapped around him firmly. He let out a long moan, but didn’t allow her to continue moving her fingers, and gently pulled her hands away.

“Too much,” He breathed against her skin, successfully removing her bra out of the way and trailing his lips across her breasts.

She moaned, this time, and wrapped her arms around him, her fingers playing through his cropped hair. He growled when she scraped her nails gently against his scalp, and his tongue darted out to run across her nipple. She gasped and clutched him closer to her; his hardness pressing against her abdomen, deliciously _close_ …

“ _Phil_ ,” She pleaded again, and he leaned her back down onto the floor, kissing up her neck and across her jaw as he positioned himself above her.

The next half hour was spent in a sweaty, grunting, panting, tangling of limbs that left them both completely boneless afterward.

\-----

“I’m so dead.” Fitz insisted toward Simmons, as they cleaned up the lab.

“No, you aren’t, Fitz,” Simmons said for the hundredth time, sighing.

“I am _so_ dead.” Fitz was certain of it.

\-----

Coulson didn’t call a team meeting until a full forty-eight hours after “Ground Zero”, as Fitz had taken to calling it.

Once everyone catalogued everything and assured that all was back to normal and the drug was completely cleared from the plane, the meeting was adjourned. Coulson took Fitz to the side and spoke to him for just a moment before disappearing back up to his office, Skye in tow. Simmons waited until they were back in the lab before asking about it.

“See? I told you that you wouldn’t die.” Simmons said with a smile. “What did Coulson say to you after the meeting?”

“He…” Fitz looked at her with surprise. “He _thanked_ me.”

Simmons blinked, her eyebrows shooting toward her hairline.

“ _Thanked you_?” She asked with disbelief, and Fitz nodded with wide eyes. He pulled out one of the vials of powder he had gathered and held it up toward the light, giving it a curious look.

“Yes… I’m just as surprised.” He shrugged, tilting the vial and observing the pink powder shift in the glass tube. “Advised me not to do it again, of course.”

“That was it?”

“That was it.”

They stared at one another, both recalling how Skye had bounded up the steps behind him after the meeting.

“Do you think-?” Fitz wondered.

“Nah, they just have a lot of work to do, rebuilding SHIELD and all.” Simmons replied quickly, though she didn’t sound as if she believed herself.

“Right. Right.” Fitz pretended to agree.


	5. Stake Out

Skye was sitting in the driver’s seat of an old Buick, turned slightly inward so she could relax her back against the door. There was a whole lot of nothing happening tonight - for whatever reason, they were supposed to just sit here as a dummy watch, while Trip and Fitz were doing the real stake-out. All night long.

Coulson had fallen asleep an hour ago, and Skye figured he needed it, so she let him sleep. He'd managed to lean the seat back just about all the way, and his legs were stretched out in front of him as much as possible.

He didn't really snore; it was more like a soft purr. It made Skye smile, but she would definitely never tell a soul. Coulson would probably skin her alive.

She sighed, shifting carefully in her seat so that she didn't shake the car and wake him. She was bored, and she needed some sort of distraction from the man a mere foot from her. The temptation to reach out and touch him was ridiculous.

His face was relaxed for the first time she's seen since he'd been promoted to Director, and it makes her think of _AC_. Their relationship has vastly improved, but there was still tension there that hadn't been there before. Or she at least never _noticed_ it before.

She certainly noticed it now. She frequently caught him staring at her with this intense look, and it would send heat straight through her, and then all _sorts_ of images would be running across her mind.

Frankly, she was more pissed off now than she was before. She blamed him for her crush intensifying into almost nightly dreams that left her aching.

A woman has needs, and Skye isn't the same type of person she used to be. She's not going to run toward an old boyfriend when she's feeling a little horny. There's one man on her mind, and she's willing to hold off on sex for the rest of her life if that means she has a bit more of a chance to have sex with _him_.

It's not just about sex, though. She's figured this part out - she knows she's in love with him. Horrifically, life-endingly, completely in love. And she has no expectations of him feeling the same way - he's the Director of SHIELD 2.0, for crying out loud. He sees her as his protégé, and she knows that's the gist of it. She's okay with that, though, because that means they still at least get to spend time together. He still reveals himself personally to her a little more than he does the rest of the team; though she thinks a part of that is a feeling of obligation on his part because of the serum they shared.

She was gazing fondly at his face as her thoughts wandered, and realized after a few minutes that his brow had furrowed. He almost looked in pain, and she leaned forward slightly, worried that he was having another nightmare. She reached her hand out toward him, about to wake him, but then he moaned.

She wrenched her hand back quickly and stared at him with wide eyes.

"AC!" She hissed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Mmm," This moan was low and from the back of his throat, and Skye sucked in a breath as arousal spread through her like wildfire.

"Dammit," She muttered, one hand clenching the steering wheel and the other the back of her seat. Just perfect that she gets stuck in a car with the object of her affections having dirty dreams. "My life _sucks_ ," Skye complained quietly, and watched Coulson shift his hips again, brow still furrowed. Skye smirked a little. "Now you know how I feel," She told him, and he let out a whining noise, so short that Skye almost missed it.

Her body was having some serious reactions to him, and now _she_ was starting to feel uncomfortable. _You could help him out a little, you know. He's still deep asleep._ She shook her evil subconscious away, clenching her teeth. No way. She couldn't... Do that... But… she could. He was right _there_ , all she had to do was reach over...

Skye jerked her hand back, a perturbed look on her face. The desire to put her hands on him was more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. She needed it like she needed air. Coulson let out that little whine again, and Skye bit her lip, suppressing the automatic moan in response. What the hell was going on with her? She'd never _wanted_ so much in her life.

"Coulson?" She whispered, seeing his fingers grasp at the edge of his seat. She swallowed, her hand reaching once again toward him.

She watched curiously, timidly, as if her hand was not a part of her, as her fingers touched against the cool metal of his belt buckle. She looked at his face as she unbuckled it, pulling the strap out slowly, letting it lie open for a moment. His face scrunched up and then seemed to relax slightly from previously. She licked her lips as she concentrated, carefully pulling at the hook of his trousers and then sliding his zipper down.

They both let out a breath of air in relief, and Skye swallowed as she saw the extent of the bulge in his briefs. She looked him in the face again as she brushed her palm against it, and he pressed his hips up against her hand.

"Mmh," Skye whimpered, her fingers curling around to cup him automatically.

She wasn't super experienced with this sort of thing, but she’d done it before. The problem was, this was _Coulson_. And she couldn't stop.

Before she could consciously make a decision to do so, she freed him through the opening in his pants, wrapping her hand around the base of his cock. He was _warm_ , almost hot, and very, very hard.

He let out a long moan, arching up into her hand, and she swore that sound almost made _her_ come right there halfway across the console. She pressed her legs tightly together, trying to focus completely on him, biting her lip in concentration again.

She squeezed firmly, sliding her hand up to brush her thumb across the tip, and he gasped.

"Skye!"

She froze, whipping her head up to stare at him, shocked, and scared to death. His eyes were still closed, but his face was completely full of pleasure now, and he was shifting impatiently under her hand.

Dear god, he'd been dreaming about _her_. Her hand moved of its own accord again in her shock, and he hummed with pleasure.

She wanted him to say her name like that again.

She lost a bit of her timidity and began moving her hand in more of a regular pattern, slow and firm. He grunted, moving his hips along with her, and then his hand snapped out and grasped her thigh tightly.

"Skye," he breathed, and she thought he sounded a little more lucid now, but it was too late to stop. She shifted her own hips, having her own set of problems, but she was fully focused on Coulson. His hand was squeezing her leg in time with the movements of her hand on his cock, and she whimpered. His hand slid up higher, and she wished she had worn a dress instead of jeans, but then he was pressing his fingers against her, and she didn't care. Even through her jeans the pressure gave her a great deal of relief and she let out a hiss of breath.

"AC," She moaned, and he jerked against her.

"I'm gonna..." He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut tighter, and Skye quickened her movements, twisting her wrist a little as she slid her hand upward. His hand between her legs grasped at her thigh again, and his other gripped around the handle of the door, and he was gasping her name again, over and over. Skye slid her hand along him a few more times as he trembled under her, and then she gently pulled away, reaching over to the glove compartment with her other hand to pull out a tissue.

Coulson didn't move at all as she cleaned up, other than the heavy rise and fall of his chest. As soon as she put the tissue away, Coulson reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked at him hesitantly, no idea what his reaction - well, his _next_ reaction - would be.

"Skye," He breathed, keeping his eyes closed, as if he were afraid that opening his eyes would prove this all to be in his imagination. At least, that's what Skye hoped was the reason.

"Yes?" She said timidly, breathing deeply through her nose. She was aching desperately for him, but she wasn't going to ask him to return the favor... It wasn't like he had asked _her_ to.

He finally opened his eyes to look at her, something akin to anticipation behind the post-orgasm glaze of satisfaction. Seeing her state, realization dawned and he let go of the door to place his hand against her cheek.

"Oh, Skye," He said, and she sighed longingly, and without paying any mind to his wide open trousers, he twisted over the console and kissed her. She moaned and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, his other hand still on her thigh. She grabbed at it and pressed it purposefully between her legs.

"God, you're - " he moaned, moving his fingers against her.

"I thought I was gonna lose it the first time you moaned," Skye admitted breathily, shifting her pelvis against his hand. She wasn't sure what he thought about her spontaneous hand-job, but she thought he was pretty fantastic. He pressed his lips against hers again, hurriedly. She made a noise against his mouth that had him surprisingly aroused again, and he moved his fingers more purposefully. She whimpered, somewhat embarrassed that she was so far gone and he'd hardly _really_ touched her, and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

" _AC_ ," She said long and slow, and he pressed his other hand against the back of her neck.

"Yes, Skye," He said quietly, pressing his knuckle more firmly into her, and she gasped, pushing her body hard against him as she came. He brushed his other hand through her hair as her tremors subsided, and her breaths were heavy against his neck.

There was a long moment of silence and Coulson worried that Skye was starting to regret, and he moved his hand to a safer spot near her knee. She lifted her head to look at him, and she had a glazed smirk on her face.

"That's the best orgasm I've ever had fully clothed." She told him, and then laughed. Coulson looked at her in surprise, and then chuckled as well. With a bit of an embarrassed grin, he sat back and tucked himself away, zipping up his pants. He was half hard again already, but he could live with that. They sat there next to one another in their seats, staring straight ahead with their hands folded in their laps. As the endorphins faded away, Skye looked a little worried, and she bit her lip.

"That wasn't just… _just_ a hand-job, right?" She asked carefully, and Coulson turned to look at her in surprise.

"You tell me. You started it." He pointed out, speaking just as carefully. Skye blushed, looking out the window for a second.

"That wasn't just a one-off," She told him, and he have her a small smile.

"No, it wasn't." He agreed. He held his hand out, and she laced her fingers through his. "How about we get Trip and May to take our place, and do this properly in my bed?" He asked her, eyes all dark. Skye stared at him.

"Uh," She said, and he smirked.

"I'll call May," He said, letting go of her hand and pulling out his phone. She followed the motion and noticed that his pants looked a little tight again, and she whipped her eyes back toward the road, turning the car on and hurriedly putting her seatbelt on.

"May," Coulson spoke in his 'bored Director' voice, "Yeah, do you mind?" May said something, and Coulson looked wryly over at Skye. "Yeah, she's getting a little frustrated." He complained, and Skye raised her eyebrows at him. "Thanks, May." Coulson, said, hanging up the phone and shoving it into his pocket.

"How do you do that?" Skye wondered breathlessly as she pulled onto the street, her mind almost completely focused on imagining what was about to happen.

"Do you need me to drive?" Coulson asked, amused, and Skye glanced at him to glare.

"No," She said forcefully, willing her body to relax and easing her foot off of the accelerator.

"Good. Because I'd rather be doing other things," Coulson replied, and then his lips were on her neck.

"Mmm, oh god," Skye half moaned, "I can't drive with you doing _that_!"


	6. Daring Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t be the only one who wanted the rescue scene to end a little differently… though don’t get me wrong, that ending was pretty hilarious. Classic Whedon: “Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.”
> 
> So, this one starts out fairly in-canon, at first.

Coulson was all business when he entered the Bus, and he didn’t look back before securing the latch and heading down the stairs.

He drew his weapon, listening intently and pausing at every corner. It was quiet, but he didn’t waste any time dwelling on why. He was fully prepared to take on Ward – heck, _let_ Ward come after him. It would give him an excuse…

Figuring – hoping – that Skye had not come of her own volition, Coulson guessed that Ward had locked her in the interrogation room. He was mildly surprised that there was no one guarding the door, and he opened it easily. Ward hadn’t even bothered to change the code… either that, or Skye had managed to change it back.

Gun drawn, he pointed it into the room first, glancing around for threats before resting his eyes on Skye. _Unharmed, unshackled, look of relief_ – she was safe. Immensely relieved, Coulson felt a weight lift off of him as she threw her arms around him, and he couldn’t help but immediately return the affection as well. Knowing that time was not on their side, he pulled her away just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay? Did Ward hurt you?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No, no, I’m okay.” She looked worried. “But the encrypted hard drive. I unlocked it…”

“Forget that.” He told her. “We need to move. We need to take the cockpit.” His free hand slipped into hers easily, and she gripped his hand tightly.

“Wait, you came alone?” She asked, surprised, as they hurried through the lounge area.

“It’s okay,” He promised, saying darkly, “I can take Ward.”

“I know that,” She said quickly, “but how did you get past Deathlok?” His lingering thoughts on the fact that she believed without a doubt that he was stronger than Ward were pushed into the corner.

“Deathlok’s here?” He stopped with surprise, turning to look at her. “On the plane?” He asked, dropping her hand to wrap both of his around his gun. She nodded.

“Yeah. You didn’t take him out?” She asked, and he stared at her. _She thinks I can take out Deathlok on my own?_ He saw her eyes look past him, over his shoulder. He heard the heavy, metallic footsteps, and turned to look as well. “New plan!” Coulson said, turning back to her with wide eyes, “Run!”

“Wait, what about you?” She asked, as he slipped into the control room.

“Get to the cargo hold, now!” Coulson told her, and she immediately did as instructed.

“I can’t let you leave, Agent Coulson,” Deathlok said, approaching the room. He was hesitant to actually hurt Coulson, and Coulson didn’t want to actually pull the trigger of the gun trained on the ex-SHIELD agent.

“It’s still my plane,” Coulson replied, glancing down quickly as he maneuvered through the control screen, bringing up the schematics and hitting the cargo ramp release. “I don’t need your permission.” He turned and ran off without firing a shot.

He still had hope for Mike.

Coulson caught up with Skye quickly, hurrying down the steps as she struggled to pull a pack over her shoulders.

“I never used a parachute before!” She yelled over the rushing wind.

“Forget that! Get in the car!” He said, and she dropped the parachute and picked up her own bag, moving immediately toward Lola. Coulson was momentarily pleased that she had immediately gotten on the same page as he was, and holstered his gun quickly before jumping into the driver’s seat. She leapt in without opening the door as well, shoving her bag down at her feet. Coulson hurriedly flicked some switches and shoved the key into the ignition, hoping the car would start. It had been a while since she last ran, and sometimes she was a little testy.

He looked up anxiously as Deathlok landed in the cargo bay in front of them, and Lola’s guns started firing just in time. They seemed to agitate Deathlok more than hurt him, and Coulson saw Ward appear at the landing with his gun drawn.

“Get down. Get down!” Coulson wrapped his arm around Skye and pushed her down behind the dashboard, ducking over top of her. _Thank God for bullet proof glass._ Ward was aiming for his head. There was a slight pause as Ward exchanged clips, and Coulson lifted his head to see Deathlok firing a rocket straight at them.

“Buckle up!” Coulson warned, and fired the car into reverse, backing off of the ramp and out of the plane. The missile just missed the top of the car as it hurtled through the air, and Skye screamed. He was reaching for her hand before he fully realized that she had been pulled up out of her seat, and he grabbed onto her hand as tightly as possible, trying to pull her back toward him.

_Dear God no no no_

She was screaming, terrified, and he was terrified, and he swore that if he lost her he was getting Lola back on that plane and taking everyone down.

He tried to reach up and grab her with his other hand, but with the car moving one way and gravity forcing her another, he couldn’t get a good hold. He managed to time a hard tug just right, and she got her other hand onto the windshield, pulling herself into her seat. He wrapped both of his arms around hers until she was firmly back in her seat and strapped in. Letting out a shaky breath, he glared at her.

“I told you to buckle up!” He yelled at her, pissed off that he’d been so scared. He reached down to flip the switch for the VTOL thrusters, and he heard them power up and flare to life. _Shit_ , he thought, looking over the side, seeing that a bullet had hit something vital and they weren’t turning on completely. They both yelled as the car rolled, and he hurriedly flipped at the switch a couple times, to no avail.

“They must have hit the thrusters,” He was pissed off about that, too. _Take Skye, take my plane, shoot my car…_ At quite possibly the last moment, the switch caught and the system stayed on, stabilizing the car and slowing their descent drastically. Skye and Coulson both gasped for air, and he managed to guide the car over a hotel roof and park it on the side of the street. The car was still struggling though, and their landing wasn’t quite so smooth; at least two of the tires popped and the engine let out a worrying rattle as the mangled tires rotated back into place and the vehicle cut off. Smoke was pouring out from under the hood, but Coulson didn’t move immediately, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. _Holy shit. Holy shit._ He worked on calming his breathing, staring straight ahead until he caught Skye looking at him. He turned to look at her as well, both of them in a bit of shock after that adventure.

He took in her appearance quickly; her hair was mussed and her face was flushed, but she otherwise seemed unharmed. The terror in her eyes turned into something else as she looked at him, and he saw her glance down toward his mouth. They both let out a heavy breath and turned forward again, Skye leaning her head back against her seat.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice rough and dry from all the shouting and the wind. She nodded carefully, looking back toward him.

“Are you?” She asked, her voice even rougher than his. He could see her hands shaking, probably from the adrenalin, and he reached his hand over to hers, holding tightly.

“I’m better,” He said, looking at her intently, and she let out an anxious noise of relief and unbuckled her belt, pressing herself – and more importantly, her lips – against him. He froze, his mouth open under hers and her tongue feeling _wonderful_ – but he knew this was just adrenalin. He’d just saved her life, in a flying car, and this was all just adrenalin. So he let her kiss him, and didn’t glare at her or scold her once she pulled away. He gave her hand an understanding squeeze.

“That’ll be twenty bucks.” A young man wearing headphones interrupted them. Skye turned quickly to stare at him, surprised, and Coulson looked at him incredulously for a moment before pulling his hand away from Skye’s, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He licked his lips while she wasn’t looking.

“I can leave it parked here?” He asked the bored valet, clearing his throat. He opened the door and stepped out gingerly. “She’s got a flat, unfortunately,” He winced as he took in the damage. “I’ve got a company to tow her, though.”

“Not a problem, sir. The car can stay here as long as needed – if you’re a visitor to this hotel, of course.” The valet gestured toward the giant building behind him that they’d almost crashed into. Coulson swallowed as he glanced toward Skye, watching her get out of the car with her bag in hand.

_Might as well. Should freshen up before Trip gets here, and really make sure she’s alright._

“Yes, of course we are.” Coulson said pleasantly, smiling at the valet. He grinned and nodded, slipping his headphones back into his ears. His eyes roved over Skye, and Coulson quickly stepped toward her, resting his hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the front doors of the hotel.

“This place looks _expensive_ ,” Skye whispered under her breath, and Coulson shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. This is a fine place to hole up until Trip gets here.” Coulson assured her, and she glanced at him quickly, biting her lip. Her eyes went upward, and he saw something flash through them; that same thing he’d seen right before she kissed him.

“The suit will work,” She said, turning to stand in front of him and stop their progress. “But let’s fix this.” She was smirking a little as she lifted her hands up, running them through his hair, smoothing it down. He stared at her, taking deep breaths, willing himself not to reach out and put his hands on her hips. “There,” She said, taking a step back and appraising her work. He nervously smoothed a hand down his tie, and buttoned his jacket.

“Thanks,” He said, his throat still raw, and he reached up to brush his finger through the edge of her hair, pulling away quickly. “You too, maybe.” His grin was lopsided, and it didn’t reach his eyes, and he looked toward the hotel while she smoothed down her hair.

“Better?” She asked, and he glanced at her.

“Yes,” He nodded, and placed his hand in a safer spot on her back as they headed into the building.

\-----

Of _course_ they had a convention going on. Of _course_ the only rooms left had only one bed. Of _course_ this whole day was turning out into the worst cliché he could imagine.

He handed her the other room card as they stood next to one another in the elevator, each holding onto a bag and standing quietly with grim, harried looks on their faces.

When they got to the room, she didn’t seem perturbed at all to find it furnished with only one bed. She tossed her bag onto the couch and opened it, rifling through for clean clothes.

“Mind if I take a shower first? I need…” She trailed off, and looked angrily off to the side. Coulson knew what she was thinking about, and he nodded.

“Of course,” He said, setting his own bag on the edge of the bed. “Take your time. I’ll call Trip.” She nodded gratefully and ducked her head, clutching her clothes tightly as she hurried into the bathroom. Once she closed the door between them, he sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

The adrenalin was wearing off, and she was regretting having kissed him. He had been expecting this, of course, but that didn’t mean it bothered him any less. He rubbed his hand across his face.

 _Damn it._ He licked his lips again, a part of him selfishly wishing he had taken the opportunity to kiss her in return. _No, no. I handled it like I should have. Protocol._

He pulled out his phone before he could continue arguing with himself, and speed-dialed Trip.

“Sir. Everything alright?” Trip asked pensively.

“Yes, Trip. Mission success.” Coulson informed him, and Trip let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank God. You know I didn’t like the idea of sending you in there alone.”

“I can take Ward,” Coulson said, a little miffed. _Skye believed I could, anyway_.

“I know, sir, I just… if Deathlok had been there, or more Hydra agents…”

“Actually, Deathlok _was_ there.” Coulson said, and he could imagine Trip’s facial expression.

“ _What_? Are you alright? How’d you get away?” Trip demanded.

“We’re both fine. I managed to get Lola out of there and we’re at a secure location now.”

“You got away from the plane in a _car_?” Trip asked incredulously, and Coulson fondly rubbed his thumb along the key.

“She’s a special car.” He said, and Trip grunted.

“Whatever you say, Sir. When should we expect you?”

“Glad you asked. I’m gonna need a pickup. And Lola needs towed, so you’ll have to acquire a truck.”

“That sounds fun.” Trip said dryly, knowing he was going to have to ‘borrow’ one from a towing company. “Where are you?”

They discussed logistics and how Trip would go about securing a towing truck, and Trip informed him that it would be a day and a half before he would get there. Coulson sighed.

“We’re stuck here overnight, then.” _Damned clichés._

“Yes, Sir… you said it was a secure location, correct?” Trip sounded worried.

“It’s secure,” Coulson confirmed, pushing away the tension from his tone. “Not a problem. Call again when you’re close.”

“Will do. And Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Tell Skye it’s good to have her back.”

“I will,” Coulson promised, smiling a little. He hung up and sighed again, feeling a little lighter for a moment.

Then the door opened, and Skye was saying that he could take his turn now, but he wasn’t quite listening to her because her hair was still wet, dripping, and she smelled really good, and –

“If you’re hungry, you can order room service. Whatever you want. Don’t worry about cost.” Coulson grabbed his bag and quickly shut himself away in the bathroom, taking a deep breath.

“Come on, Phil,” He told himself quietly, “You’re Level Eight. You can handle a couple of clichés.” He carefully laid out his old suit on the countertop as he undressed, pulling out his clean clothes and resting them on top of his bag. He was grateful that Skye had gone first; the mirror was still hazy, and he couldn’t make out the scar on his chest in the reflection.

The hot water felt wonderful, and he let out a long sigh and pressed his forehead against the wall of the shower, just letting the water cascade over him for a few moments. The shower still smelled like her; clean, wonderful, womanly. It was too much of a domestic pleasure, and he quickly reached for the shampoo, focusing on cleaning himself.

He showered quickly, and when he stepped back into the hotel room, Skye had ordered something for the both of them. She was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, checking through all the plates on the cart in front of her. She glanced up at him, bit her lip, and then gestured toward the food.

“I kind of guessed on what you would want. I … ordered breakfast food because it’s comforting,” She spoke quickly, and Coulson smiled at her so that she didn’t feel like she needed to explain herself.

“That sounds perfect,” He told her, and her glance toward him was hesitant. She was looking at his hair, he thought, which was still wet and sticking up everywhere from when he’d run his towel through it. Well, he hadn’t thought to pack a comb, so she was going to have to get used to the scruffier look.

“I didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans.” She spoke quietly, and he almost missed what she had said. He had moved toward the cart to see what she had ordered, and he hesitated, his hand midair. Now she was looking at – _no she’s not. Stop being an idiot._ He began setting the plates out on the small table next to the window, pulling the lids off and bringing them back to the cart.

“Are the pancakes for me?” He asked, hopeful. Skye gave him an odd look, but she smiled a little.

“Yes. Is that alright?” She asked, moving toward one of the chairs. He smiled at her.

“That’s wonderful.” He said sincerely, and she chuckled under her breath. Once he had set glasses of water at both of their places, he sat down across from her. She hadn’t started eating her waffle yet, and he hesitated, wondering if she wanted to say something.

“Thanks for saving me,” She finally spoke.

“Of course.” He told her softly. _Any time._ He thought. “The next time I tell you to buckle up, though, you’d better listen to me.” He lightly scolded her before cutting into his pancakes, and her laugh was a little less stressed.

“Yes _Sir_.”

\-----

They had eaten, he had told her about the motel that the other three were currently hiding out at, and informed her that Trip would be picking them up in a day and a half.

“So we’re stuck here for two nights?” Skye asked, and Coulson swallowed down a particularly large bite of pancake, doing his best not to choke.

“Yes.” He said carefully, gauging her reaction. She didn’t seem bothered, and nodded.

“This is a fancy place,” She commented, taking a closer look at the accents of the room. He finished clearing up and pushed the cart out into the hall, looking down the hallway in both directions before closing the door again.

“I’m sorry there’s only one bed,” He apologized, and she raised her eyebrow, as if she was surprised.

“That doesn’t bother me.” She said, then glanced at the bed and back at him. “Does it bother you?” Her tone was different, there, and _dear God Phil don’t hurt her feelings._

“Not – no… I just – ”

“It’s awkward now, because I kissed you, isn’t it?” Skye sounded angry at herself. Coulson opened his mouth to argue, but she continued, “I’m sorry I did that. I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation.” She sounded sincere, and he was about to tell her that it was alright, until he realized what it was exactly that she had said.

“Take advantage?” He repeated, and she sat down roughly on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t believe I did that. So _stupid_.” She was talking to herself, now, and he just stared at her. “I just… So many times having to pretend _Ward_ was _you_ and I just needed to _really_ kiss _the real you_ …”

“ _What_.” Coulson stepped toward her quickly, and she looked up at him. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking, yet; he wanted her to talk more, to explain.

“ _Ward_.” Skye said, disgusted. “He’s _fixated_ on me. And, sure, the first couple times I kissed him, it was real; I hadn’t known he was Hydra…” She trailed off, still frowning, and something inside of Coulson’s chest squeezed tightly. “But then – then – _ugh_ it was _disgusting_ having to pretend…” She trailed off again, and looked back up at him. Her brow furrowed at the expression she saw on his face, and he had no idea what she saw there. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling – but he knew a part of it was anger. Jealousy. Disgust. Betrayal.

“When you walked onto the Bus with him, holding his hand,” Coulson began.

“That was an act. I had found, Koenig – oh God, Koenig.” She heaved a breath, and then continued, “I knew as soon as I found the body. Everything I did after that was just an act… Just like Ward.” Her eyes grew steely. “I can’t _believe_ he’d been lying to us. The _whole_ time!” She was growing angry, now, and he was feeling relief.

 _I have no right to be jealous because of that._ This wasn’t the first time, though. He’d felt it with Miles, as well, and that was so many months ago… _Ward_ , the lying, betraying, Hydra bastard – Coulson wanted to hurt him. Possibly even kill him.

Skye must have seen something in his eyes, because the next thing he knew she had grabbed one of his hands and was holding it tightly between hers.

“It’s okay, AC, you saved me.” She said, pulling him back into focus. He looked at her apologetically, and she dropped her gaze to his hand, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. “I had hoped you would. That was the only hope I had, really. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to take out Ward on my own. Still too many feelings there.”

Coulson kneeled down in front of her, and he had to look up slightly to look her in the eyes.

“You still love him,” He said understandably. The reason why he felt so betrayed, why the whole team felt so betrayed, was because they _had_ loved Ward. Prickly, porcupine-poop-with-knives Ward had managed to have an entire team care about him, and then he completely turned his back on them – hell, he tried to _kill_ half of them.

“No,” Skye said, “I care about him still, yes, but I never loved him. I love – ” She stopped, looked chagrined, and stared back down at his hand.

He knew it was wrong, so wrong, the hope pressing into his chest, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“Who?” He whispered. _Don’t do this. Don’t put yourself through this. You’ve been heartbroken enough for a lifetime._

“Well, AC,” Skye chuckled nervously, biting her lip, “ _you_.”

He leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of her head and pulled her down toward him, kissing her breathlessly. _What are you doing? Protocol, Phil. Protocol._ He pulled away, but kept his hands against her head. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, surprised by his actions.

“ _Me_ ,” He breathed, relieved, pressing his lips against hers again. Her fingers were combing through his wet hair, and her hair was still wet too, but neither of them cared. He stood slightly, pushing against her, leaning her back against the bed. She removed her hands from him so she could scoot back, and he followed her quickly, managing to keep his lips attached to hers. She was so soft, and smooth, and he was particularly fascinated with her neck.

“You didn’t kiss me back,” She gasped, her hands running across his back, “In the car. I wasn’t sure…”

He pulled away from her neck, looking down at her.

“I wasn’t sure either.” He said, and she placed her hand against his cheek.

“Are you sure, now?” She asked, and he could read the hope in her eyes, the same hope that had been threatening to suffocate him. He smiled, widely enough that it reached his eyes, and he nodded. She grinned and moved her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again.

They’d managed to pull one another’s t-shirts off before they hesitated again, and Coulson looked a little unsure.

“What?” She breathed, fascinated by the muscles she hadn’t been aware that he had.

“Adrenalin,” He said, his chest heaving. “This is adrenalin. We shouldn’t do this,” He made to move away from her, and she grabbed at his waist, threading her fingers through his belt loops.

“No,” She said forcefully, “I know what I’m doing. I want this, and I’ve wanted this for a long time, now.”

He stared down at her, wondering if she was telling the truth. _Well, why wouldn’t she tell the truth?_ Would it be appropriate for him to tell her how long he’d wanted this, too? Is anything they were doing appropriate? Had their relationship _ever_ been appropriate?

“Coulson,” She tugged at his hips, and he sucked in a breath, only allowing a little movement. _Keep space. Space is safe._ “Stop thinking,” Skye growled, tugging harder, and he thought it might have been the growl that did him in. Her hands reached around to grab his ass, pulling him harder against her, and he groaned against her neck. Her legs wrapped around his, and he ground his hips against her. She sighed and ran her hands along his back, and he was appreciative that she avoided his scar.

“I like you in jeans, but I’d like you better out of them,” She gasped hurriedly, and he quickly rolled off of her onto his back to unbuckle his pants and shove them out of the way. She did the same, and he groaned again when he saw her toss her underwear away with them. He sat up and pulled the sheets back and she maneuvered out of the way, pulling her bra off as well. He stared at her hungrily as she slid back against the pillows, and he pulled the sheet over the both of them, focusing his attention on her breasts, first.

She was moaning and her hands were urgently moving all over him, and it was just all so profound that this was actually happening, and then she started begging him, and – _shit. Fuck._

He pulled his lips from hers, holding himself up above her.

“What?” She asked, bewildered.

“I don’t have a condom.” _Shit fuck._

“Coulson – I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen, remember?” She said pointedly. He blinked, and still hesitated. Now that he had taken a moment to stop, he knew he needed to make sure that she really wanted this.

“You sure?” Coulson began.

“Of _course_ – ”

“You sure you want this?” He continued, interrupting her. “You want this, with me? Because I don’t do just sex, Skye.” _Especially with you._

“I told you that I loved you. And I meant it.” Skye said seriously, her hands light around the back of his neck. Coulson allowed himself a moment to repeat that to himself, allowing the words to roll around in his brain, to settle. His chest no longer felt tight – in fact, he felt lighter than he had in a very long time. He smiled at her, and leaned down to brush his nose against hers. She kissed the edge of it, and he closed his eyes as she pressed soft kisses all over his face. “C’mon, AC,” She whispered, and her hands trailed down to the waistband of his briefs.

“Phil,” He managed to say, and her hands stopped for a moment.

“Phil?” She repeated, and he nodded.

“When it’s just the two of us, when we aren’t working… I would rather you call me Phil.” He told her, and she grinned.

“ _Wow_ ,” She said, teasing with a breathless voice, and he made a face at her. “Alright… Phil.” She said his name slowly, and damn it if he didn’t find that incredibly sexy. She pushed the edge of his briefs down, and wrapped her hand around him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head to her shoulder, groaning as she fondled him.

After a minute or two, he had to push her hands away, and he reached down to pull his briefs the rest of the way off. He looked back into her eyes, and she licked her lips anxiously.

“Yeah, come on come on come on,” She hurriedly said, and he chuckled, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He moved slowly, wondering just how far he could push her to the edge before actually entering her. “Dammit,” She pulled her mouth from his eventually, gasping for air. “Phil!” She complained, frustrated. He grinned. He liked her saying his name in that tone of voice, too. _That’s dangerous territory, Phil._

He’d explore that later.

“Yes?” He asked lightly, but he knew that she could read him like a book. He was in no better condition than she was, and he was sure his eyes were completely dark with arousal by this point.

“Come _on_ , man!” She wrapped her arms around his back, and he laughed, pressing himself completely against her as he kissed her again. He kept it light, this time, and reached down to guide himself between her legs.

 _Thank God for clichés,_ he thought fleetingly.


	7. Multitasking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a fic from a different fandom, with my own twist and, of course, Coulson and Skye.

Alright, so maybe he should have found another way to keep Skye from being so handsy.

May had called in over the walkie-talkie resting on the bookshelf where Skye happened to be standing. He’d reached over to grab it, and he should have been suspicious immediately, when Skye hadn’t moved out of the way.

He should have stepped away, too, but Skye had that challenging little smirk on her face, and he couldn’t help but return it.

He was trying to talk to May on the other side of the walkie, and Skye had suddenly got it in her head to start unbuttoning his shirt. She got three buttons down before he distractedly tried to swat her hands away, saying something to May about checking the Index. Skye easily avoided his hands and continued her task.

He pulled in a sharp breath when she reached more sensitive skin lower on his stomach, finally giving her his full attention.

"Skye. Behave." He caught her hands and held them still, missing what May was saying to him.

"May's talking to you, AC," Skye said, undaunted.

"Coulson? You there? Is everything okay?" May was calling over the walkie.

"Fine, May. Sorry." Coulson let go of Skye's hands to pick up the walkie again, hoping (but not betting on it) that Skye would stop fooling around. He glared at the walkie as if it was to blame for not sufficiently holding his attention.

He was all too aware that his body rather agreed with her fooling around, and there was no way that Skye could have missed that.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He avoided her eyes as he tried to focus on what May was saying. He was too old to be making out in the middle of his office, particularly during hours which anyone could walk in on them.

 _Nobody's walked in on us yet_ , his body reminded him.

Skye's lips were on his neck, and he franticly thought of a way to tell May that the rest of this conversation could wait until she returned to base.

Skye pulled her head away from him and he finally looked at her, indecision in his eyes. She grinned a little and started unbuttoning her flannel, and his lips parted slightly as he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Her smile widened slightly and she pressed her hips against his, and he decided that conversation was done.

"May, just bag it and tag it, and anything else..." He began, and then Skye leaned forward, pressing bare skin to bare skin. He knew his breathing was betraying him and her hand slipped down to the front of his trousers, rubbing firmly against him. He couldn't help releasing a soft moan, and that only encouraged her further.

"Coulson? Anything else... what? Coulson?"

Skye pulled at his belt and had it and his trousers open before he could utter another sound. He managed to grab her hands again with one of his before she could pull his zipper down. He licked his lips and attempted to finish speaking with May, while still giving Skye a hard look.

"Anything else can..." He started, and then he felt Skye's teeth graze across the juncture between his neck and shoulder. She shifted her hips against his again, firmly.

It was instinct, honestly, to push back, and she moaned softly in his ear. Oh, he was done for.

"Anything else can wait until you return to base." He finally finished.

"10-4. You sure everything's okay over there?" May sounded suspicious.

"Everything's fine, May. I'll meet you in debriefing when you return,"

"Yes Sir,"

"Speaking of debriefing," Skye muttered, focused on his lap. He tossed the walkie somewhere to the floor away from them and growled, capturing her lips with his. He let go of her hands so that he could run his through her hair, she immediately finished unzipping his trousers and pushing them away from his hips.

"May is gonna give me a heck of an interrogation when she gets back," He complained, but his hands were undoing Skye's jeans, and she was pulling the knot of his tie completely off, her lips trailing across his jaw.

"Worth it?" Skye breathed, stepping out of her jeans and pants, tossing his tie somewhere behind him. He grabbed her legs and hoisted her up, leveraging her against the wall as he pressed his hips against hers. She moaned and wrapped her legs around him, her hands holding tight at his shoulders as he pushed himself into her.

"So worth it," He grunted, immediately moving at a steady pace.

\-----

"Did you guys get into another fight while we were out?" May asked Coulson, glancing back to where Skye was half lounged on his couch. She was focused on her tablet, but May saw her bite her lip and smirk.

"Uh, no. I was just a little distracted, is all. Trying to do multiple things at once." Coulson shrugged, offering a lame smile, and May arched her eyebrow at him.

"Uh huh. Did that involve throwing your tie across the room?" She wondered in a mostly innocent tone of voice, and he jerked his gaze toward the fake window in his office.  His tie was half draped over one of his model planes on the shelf there, and he leaned back into his chair carefully.

"I got... angry." He said, and May looked at him for a long moment.

"Next time, maybe you should take it out on the punching bag. We wouldn't want you to accidentally break one of your precious collectibles." May said dryly, standing up. Coulson sat very still as she walked toward the door, and she turned back to give him one of her special 'you're being an idiot' looks. "And maybe you should invest in a scented candle, or something, so your office doesn't smell like sex the next time you try to... 'do multiple things at once'." She glanced to Skye and then back at him before disappearing.

After a long moment, Coulson looked at Skye, and she let out a snicker. He narrowed his eyes and she pinched her lips together.

"This is your fault." He told her.

"Maybe if you didn't wear ties all the time, people wouldn't notice so much when they're missing."

"Maybe if you wouldn't _jump_ me in my _office_ ,"

"Hey, _you_ jumped back."

"I'll show you jumping back," He got to his feet.


	8. Man In A Suit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skye's a little OOC in this chapter, just warning you. Then again, maybe it's just because of her thing with tuxedos... Rather, Phil Coulson in a tuxedo...
> 
> Simmons is rather bold, as well, but I'd to think that after spending so much time hanging out with Skye, she's loosened up a bit.

Triplett and May were hurrying down the hall, arguing with one another, when they ran into Coulson rounding a corner. He was running a towel through wet hair, and did not look amused.

“What the hell is going on?” He demanded. He was wearing shorts and a snug-fitting t-shirt; they had probably interrupted him mid-workout. Trip pointed at May and May frowned.

“I caught Trip trying to prank…” As May ratted him out, Trip noticed Skye and Simmons rounding the corner from behind Coulson. He didn’t think anything of it, until Skye noticed Coulson. She gripped Simmons’ arm and yanked her back against the wall with her, still behind Coulson. Trip did a double take and stared at Skye, wondering what her problem was. He suspiciously looked back to Coulson, who hadn’t seemed to notice the two women and was still listening to May with a stern look on his face. Realization dawned on Trip as he took in Coulson’s appearance again, and looked back at the women. Skye’s face was red, and she was shaking her head frantically at Simmons, muttering something that only Simmons could hear. Trip smirked. He was a perceptive fellow.

“I got in trouble, Director Coulson. I was just trying to get back at the girls. Honestly, this has been an ongoing war for months, now. Fitz was with me too, you know – he just didn’t get caught.” Trip interrupted May’s long-winded explanation, and gestured toward the two women still standing against the wall behind Coulson.

“Skye and Simmons.” Coulson ordered, enunciating each word individually, not even turning around to look at them. “Get over here now.”

Trip watched with amusement as they quickly did as he asked, Simmons looking ashamed and Skye keeping her eyes on the floor.

“I’m pleased you all seem to be getting along in that way that you do, but for the sake of this base – and Koenig’s heart – please stop the pranks.” Coulson told them, a smile hidden in his scolding voice. “You almost gave him a heart attack the other day.”

“Yessir,” They both mumbled.

“You have to admit, even though Koenig was the one who came across it, it was pretty brilliantly executed,” Simmons tried to salvage the situation, and Coulson did look a little amused.

“Who did come up with that hologram?” Coulson wondered, and Trip grinned as he answered,

“Oh, Skye wrote the programming for that,”

Coulson raised a surprised eyebrow at her, and she continued to keep her gaze toward his feet. Trip almost burst out laughing right then and there. She was so not being her usual self at _all_.

“Really brilliant, Skye. You’ll have to show me later how you put that together.” Coulson told her, and she jerked her head up.

“Thank you, AC.” She said with surprise, and May rolled her eyes before walking off, muttering something about how no one gets a real reprimand around here anymore.

Trip smirked, but it quickly dropped when Coulson turned his attention to him, a stern look on his face.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about Koenig encountering one of your little tricks, okay?” He warned him, and Trip nodded quickly.

“Sorry, Sir.”

“Now, since there isn’t anything serious going on, I’m getting back to my shower.” Coulson flung the towel across his shoulder as he turned to head back to his office, and missed Skye’s wide-eyed stare.

Simmons smiled and patted her back, and Trip grinned.

“You okay, Skye?” He asked innocently, taking note of the woman’s blush.

“Fine, fine,” Skye swallowed, and Simmons sighed as she watched Coulson walk away.

“That man looks good in anything, doesn’t he?” She mused.

Trip stared at her in shock. _Simmons is checking out Coulson?! _ He narrowed his eyes slightly, and then realized that Simmons had noticed the same thing about Skye that he had. _Oh, you are sneaky._

“Oh, yes…” Skye replied distractedly. Simmons raised her eyebrows toward Trip knowingly, and then toward Skye when the hacker realized what she had said and looked up. “I mean, you know, who doesn’t look good in a fitted suit,” She tried to save herself, and Trip spoke up as if he hadn’t noticed anything,

“I bet he could kill it in a tux.”

“Oh, he does,” Simmons said with a giggle, and both Skye and Trip stared at her in surprise.

“You’ve seen this?” Trip asked, at the same time Skye said,

“Please tell me you have documentation.”

Simmons shrugged, hesitating before replying with a barely hidden smirk,

“I might.”

Trip grinned at Simmons proudly. Skye had it bad, and the both of them totally had her caught.

\-----

Coulson hadn’t walked far enough away that he couldn’t hear what Simmons and Trip were saying to Skye. He didn’t always hear Skye’s responses, but Simmons’ words alone were enough to make him wonder.

_I haven’t heard a woman speak that way about me since… Well, since I died._

He knew Simmons well enough that she was completely taken with Fitz, and while she had gotten better at lying, he could still read straight through her. Apparently, though, Skye completely missed Simmons’ playful tone.

 _Documentation? There isn’t supposed to be any documentation of me._ He sighed. _I’d better check up on this._

When he heard their footsteps nearing the corner, he quickly hid himself in the broom closet while they passed. He heard their steps slowly faded away as they went further down the hall. He carefully slipped out of the closet and saw Trip head into Simmons’ room last, closing the door behind him. Coulson quickly moved toward it once the hall was clear. He raised his hand to knock on the closed door, but stopped when he heard Skye speaking.

“Does he know you’ve got a picture of him? Isn’t the whole idea that he doesn’t exist rely on the fact there is zero documentation on him?”

“This is pre-New York. It’s okay.” Simmons’ reply put Coulson a little more at ease, and he lowered his hand. Without really thinking about it, he found himself leaning against the wall, his ear close to the door.

“Here it is,” Simmons said after a bit of a shuffling noise.

“Holy smokes! How old is this? Damn,” Skye sounded surprised, and quite pleased. Coulson raised his eyebrow.

“This is from quite a few years ago. Back when Tony Stark first outed himself as Iron Man.”

“How did you get it? Stalking him around?” Trip teased.

“Of course not. One of Fitz and I’s classmates from Level Three courses sent this. Agents, from the very beginning, hear stories about Agent Coulson. He was one of the best agents SHIELD ever had. We were all frightened of him, of course, and we’d never met him ourselves. A group of us were invited to Stark Tower to check out all of his equipment, and while I hadn’t met Agent Coulson then, one of my classmates – he was a higher level, too – was sending us pictures and warning us not to run into him. Told us he didn’t have patience for us ‘science-types’.”

Coulson frowned at this information. That was wildly untrue.

“That’s not true at all!” Skye argued, and he smiled at how she always leapt to his defense. “I’ve seen him in the lab with you guys. If he wasn’t so busy being the boss, I’m pretty sure he’d be down there with you guys a lot more often.”

There was a bit of silence, and he leaned closer to the wall.

“God, you’re right. He looks damn good in a tux.” Skye sighed, and he refused to acknowledge the sound as _longing_. “I’d bet he’d look even better in one _now_.” Coulson raised his eyebrow. _Is she saying I look better now than I did half a decade ago?_

“Here’s another one, a little more recent. It’s from the unveiling ceremony for the Bus. I’ve got a bunch of pictures from that evening.” There was a tone in Simmons’ voice that made Coulson suspicious. Simmons was up to something.

“This… this might be my favorite picture. _Ever_.” Skye spoke seriously, and something inside of him jumped at this information.

“Skye, you are so sweet,” Simmons said. “I kind of thought you and Trip would get together – ”

“Woah, now, I like Skye and everything, but she’s like my sister – ” Trip immediately said, and Skye interrupted him.

“What? I thought _you_ and Trip – wait, what are you saying? I don’t – AC – ” Skye started stumbling over her own words.

“Me and Trip?” Simmons nervously laughed and quickly said, “I saw your face when we ran into Director Coulson. You were _totally_ checking him out,”

It was definitely weird hearing Simmons say something like that.

“So were you!” Skye argued immediately.

“ _I_ was just observing, _you_ were ogling.”

“I do not _ogle_ ,” Skye hissed. By this point, Coulson had his ear pressed against the wall intently, a look of surprise on his face.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Simmons promised, her voice more serious.

“Are you _kidding me_? This isn’t – there isn’t – he’s our _boss_ – ” Skye was stammering again.

“Yeah, but that could be sexy.” Trip spoke up. “Haven’t you ever imagined he’d call you into his office, and – ”

“Have _you_?” Skye retorted, sounding mortified. Coulson’s face was curiously blank, though the rest of him had frozen in place. Trip laughed.

“Of course not. But I know some women who like that sort of thing.” Trip changed his voice slightly to say, “‘Really brilliant, Skye. You’ll have to show me later how you put it together.’ Come on! Open invitation, right there.”

Coulson thought that was a horrible impression of him. Of course he hadn’t spoken so… _sensually_.

“Trip,” Skye groaned, and Simmons chuckled.

“Well, here, you have these. _I_ certainly don’t need them.” Simmons said.

“Not as much as Skye probably will,” Trip said, and there was a thump as Skye punched (Coulson presumed) Trip. Trip laughed again.

“Skye… how can you see him every day and just…” Simmons wondered, sobering the subject.

“It’s easier when everyone thinks you’re hung up on your traitor SO.”

“I’m sorry,” Simmons said meaningfully, and Coulson blinked.

 _Skye… Has a crush on me?_ He hadn’t been aware of that. He wasn’t sure what to think about it, either. He was honored, and touched, of course. Was he… Happy? He felt… Pleased. Uh oh.

“C’mon, Skye, let’s hit the bag for a bit, shall we?” Trip said quietly.

“Yeah,” Skye said in that strong manner she usually did when she was trying not to be too emotional. “Thanks for these, Simmons.” She sounded closer to the door. Coulson pulled away and walked quickly back down the hall, toward his own quarters. He wouldn’t make it inside, but he could pretend he’d just stepped out of his room.

Trip and Skye both were surprised when they noticed him as they stepped out of Simmons’ room.

“Director Coulson,” Trip greeted, and Coulson gave them a suspicious look.

“What were you doing?” He asked, and Trip grinned at him as he passed by without stopping.

“Fawning over pictures of men in tuxedos. Just some girl talk,” Trip grinned again and took a left down the next hall, headed toward the training room. Coulson stopped where he was and stared after him.

_Trip is the manliest guy I know to sound happy about having ‘girl talk’ with women._

A strange noise came from Skye, and he looked back toward her. She was staring at him with wide eyes, and she was clearly blushing. He raised his eyebrow at her, and without a word she hurried passed him after Trip. He stared at the empty space she had vacated, rotating his jaw as he considered.

Well, he was the Director, after all. What’s one more secret added to the list of secrets?

\-----

“Hello, Skye,” Coulson said good-naturedly as he passed by her coming out of the lounge. He was headed in the opposite direction from his office. She froze and swallowed, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t come up with a distinguishable response. Coulson continued toward the hangar bay as if he hadn’t noticed her garbled reaction.

“Okay there, Skye?” Trip raised his eyebrow at her, grinning. Her wide eyes were still trained to where the older agent had just disappeared.

“I wonder where he’s headed off to. Maybe a late-evening cruise in Lola?” Simmons mused knowingly, sitting on one of the couches with Fitz, across from Trip.

“Someone should go ask him,” Fitz suggested, oblivious. He was fully focused on the game of Monopoly laid out in front of them. Simmons nodded enthusiastically.

“They should! I’m awfully curious…” Simmons’ was horrible at lying, but Skye was too distracted to notice.

“It shouldn’t be me. He’s still a bit peeved at me for scaring the crap out of Koenig, earlier.” Trip said.

“Did you see how well those pants fit him?” Simmons whispered – loudly. Fitz jerked his eyes toward her, shocked, not knowing that she and Trip were playing with Skye.

Trip hid laughter behind his hand as he took his turn, not calling out the strangled sound Skye made or the red blush that tinted her cheeks.

“A man in a tuxedo always means business. I’m going to see what’s going on,” Simmons said with finality, bringing her hands to the edge of the couch as if she were moving to stand.

“We’re in the middle of a game!” Fitz complained, unknowingly helping them out. “Skye was about to leave the room anyway; make her go,” He suggested with a wave of his arm. He didn’t want Simmons running after a man in a tuxedo, anyway – not after she’d been checking out his _pants_. Skye finally moved her stare toward them, looking slightly fearful.

“I, uh, I,” She stuttered, and Simmons gave her an encouraging smile.

“Looks like it’s up to you, Skye. Sate my curiosity, please? You know Fitz won’t let me leave in the middle of a game, even if my hair were on fire,” Simmons said, and Skye narrowed her eyes slightly, knowing that Simmons was pushing her on purpose.

“I – ”

“Good luck!” Trip gave her a thumbs up, and then turned his focus onto the game board.

“Hey, I – ” Skye quickly realized that none of her friends were paying any more attention to her, and she let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine.” She muttered, steeling herself before walking confidently after her boss.

She found him in the hangar bay, standing next to Lola, his palm flat on the hood of the car. He was simply looking at the car, with something of a longing expression on his face.

“Uh, Coulson?” Skye asked carefully. He turned at her voice, but didn’t pull away from the car. “Everything okay?”

He sighed, and she couldn’t hide her surprise at the sadness on his face. Sure, he was always a little more open with her – but usually that was _after_ they had talked for a while.

“I’m just wishing, Skye. Even the Director sometimes wishes for things that are impossible.” He said lightly, trying to keep the mood light. Skye couldn’t help the response forming on her lips,

“I would think for sure by now that you wouldn’t be so quick to call something impossible.” She said, adding quickly, “ _Sir_.” Coulson looked at her for a moment, giving her a flash of a smile before looking sad again.

 _Such a forlorn, puppy-eyed gaze…What is he so sad about, and dressed up the way he is? Is it the anniversary of his death?_ Skye realized she was staring at him probably just as longingly as he had stared at his car, and quickly looked away from him. She caught herself wringing her hands and she stuffed them into her pockets.

The lines on Coulson’s face smoothed, so that he was now… gazing at her. Softly.

She swallowed.

“You won’t ask what I was thinking about?” He asked, blinking at her calmly. His hand was still resting on top of the car; he wasn’t feeling any unease at all. At least, he wasn’t showing it.

What she didn’t know, was that his palms were sweating like he was sixteen years old again, and his heart beat so hard that his scar throbbed.

“Thoughts like those are usually private,” Skye replied, shrugging lightly. “I’m a hacker with _computers_ , not _people_.” He beckoned her closer, finally removing his hand from the car. She stepped toward him immediately, and he reached out to take both of her hands in his, after he had deftly wiped his palms against his pants. She was surprised at his request, but gingerly rested her hands in his.

“They aren’t private from the people involved in them,” He said quietly, and then music started playing from the car, something soft and jazzy. Skye was too caught off guard to realize what was happening at first, but she soon found herself slow dancing with Coulson, one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. His other arm was wrapped around her confidently, and he began a waltz with her that was as if he’d been dancing his entire life.

“Woah, charm school.” Skye was too surprised to think about why she’d even said that out loud. His lips curved into that amused little smile that he usually gave her when she got caught up in one of her government rants.

“I wasn’t sure whether you knew waltz or not,” He admitted after a few steps, “But I’m glad to see that you have, once again, surprised me,” He sounded pleased, and she blushed, though she was still thoroughly confused.

“I’m not wearing dancing clothes,” She said, and then mentally reproved herself. _What the hell, Skye? You act like you’ve never danced with a man before._

_Course, you’ve never danced with a man before, honestly. Miles hardly counts._

Coulson smiled at her, a small one, but a real smile.

“Yet you’re doing wonderfully,” He said honestly, and the blush across her cheeks was lighter; not as mortified, but touched.

“So… Why is this happening?” She blurted out. Coulson spun her around before answering.

“You were right; as you usually are,” He told her, “I don’t believe things are impossible.”

By now she had relaxed in his embrace, and she was definitely enjoying it, even if she still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on.

“I heard you liked suits,” Coulson mentioned some time later, after he had pulled her closer to him, and her head was resting on his shoulder. She was glad he couldn’t see her bite her lip nervously.

“Most women do, you know,” She tried to deflect, and she felt his thumb stroke her back where his palm had been resting. Even through the material of her t-shirt, she felt tingles across her skin where the weight of his fingers touched.

“Do most women ogle over pictures they somehow have of their boss in a tuxedo?” He asked, and she pulled back, looking chagrined. Their steps halted, though he kept her firmly in his arms, so she could only pull back a little. She was too worried about getting reprimanded to notice how closely they were still standing to one another.

“I, uh, can explain that, and I – ” She began quickly, stopping when a smile crossed his face. She frowned. “And I do not _ogle_!” She insisted, indignant. She looked off to the side, rotating her jaw, fighting off embarrassment, and he let go of her hand to press his finger against her jaw, turning her face back toward him.

“I was rather hoping you do, actually,” He said quietly, staring her in the eyes. Hers widened. “I didn’t break this old thing out for nothing.”

She was a bit disappointed in herself for lacking so much in her snarky responses during this entire conversation. She stared at him for a few moments, finally opening her mouth,

“What Level do they teach this stuff in?”

He looked amused. His fingers ghosted across her jaw and down her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm to take her hand again. She swallowed, her entire arm tinging and sending jolts into her chest.

“Some things just can’t be taught,” He whispered coyly, and she raised her eyebrow at him. He led the dance as if they hadn’t stopped, and it was some time before they spoke again.

“I still can’t believe that I’m wearing jeans and sneakers, and you’re in a tuxedo,” Skye sighed, and Coulson smiled.

“I’ll make sure to take you to a dinner where you can no doubt make it up to me,” He said into her ear, and she was sure he could hear the way her breath hitched slightly.

A slower, bluesy song began playing and their waltz turned into a slow dance. He held her body closer to his, wrapping his arm around her waist and threading their fingers together. She slid her other hand further around his shoulder to rest her palm high on his back, near the base of his neck. He pressed his cheek against hers as they swayed, and she threaded her fingers through the ends of his hair. There was almost no space between their bodies, and she managed not to falter a single step.

“You think you’re so smooth,” She whispered, finally completely able to comprehend the situation and speak like a normal human being. She felt his laugh more than heard it.

“I _am_ so smooth,” He assured her, his legs pressing against hers as they stepped together.


	9. Safe House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one definitely has explicit sexual imagery.

* * *

 

“Grenade!” Coulson yelled, already midair as he jumped toward her to push them both away from it. He landed on top of her, throwing one arm over the back of his own head and curving the other around hers, squeezing his eyes closed at it exploded. They both tucked their faces onto one another’s shoulders, trying to protect themselves as best they could as shrapnel and debris went flying. Skye flinched, gripping onto the sides of his flak vest as tightly as she could. She didn’t feel like any major damage had been done, but she couldn't be sure; there was a dull hum in her ears and everything felt numb. Coulson pulled his head up to look her in the eye, his lips moving as he spoke, but she still couldn't hear anything. The hum turned into a ringing sound, and she rotated her jaw, trying to get her ears to pop.

“…-kye! Skye! Are you okay?” He was asking urgently, pushing himself up on his arm.

“I… yes, yes. I think I’m fine,” She told him, looking around. He pulled his arm away from around her head and rolled off of her, struggling to his feet, staying low in case they were still being fired at.

A bullet hit the ground just at her feet, and she flinched, getting her bearings rather quickly after that.

“Come on!” Coulson said, reaching for her hand as she scrambled up, tugging her along beside him. “We need to get a way out,” He looked quickly around the space; this level of the abandoned warehouse they were in didn’t offer many escape routes. Or hiding places.

Another bullet whizzed by them, and he yanked her behind a large shipping crate as he dove to the side, both of them slamming against it with a grunt.

“Did you see where they are?” He asked her, pulling out his Icer. She nodded firmly, glanced over his shoulder, and put her hand over his, pushing the gun down.

“I got this,” she told him, pinching her lips closed and pulling him back behind her, lifting her other hand up toward the container they were hiding behind. “That window to our left? Be ready to run.” He gave her a short nod, then watched as the large container rocked on its edge, and then flew toward the approaching enemies, knocking most of them down at once.

He grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes, pushing him toward the window. She gestured toward it with hardly an afterthought and it shattered apart, outward. The roof was a full level below, but there was an awning at the window to their right, and they could climb down the supports to reach the roof. They moved quickly, not waiting to see if they were still being pursued.

“There’s the car!” Coulson pointed toward the left, and she spied it parked on the ground.

“We’re still three levels up! How the hell – ”

“I got this,” He interrupted her, raising his eyebrow at her. She gave him a look in return, and he messed with his watch for a moment. Five seconds later, Lola rose up next to them, hovering level with the roof. Skye looked at the car and then raised both eyebrows toward him, and he smirked.

“They’re getting away!” Shouts drifted through the open window, and both of them looked over to see a group of men hovering at the ledge, guns in their hands. Bullets started to hit the ground in front of Coulson and Skye, and he gestured toward the car.

“Let’s prove ‘em right,” He suggested hurriedly, opening the passenger door and leaping in, climbing over to the driver’s seat as Skye leapt in right behind him. She buckled in as he flipped some switches and took control of the wheel, turning them away from the building.

“Might wanna buckle up!” Skye shouted over the bullets and the wind, reaching over to snag the belt and pull it across him. He shifted his arms out of the way, glancing at her as she snapped it in and tugged it tight.

“Oof,” He grunted, giving her a wry look, “thanks.” He hit the thrusters and sped off, a grim look on his face. “We need to lay low for a few days. They’ll be searching for us.” She nodded silently, swallowing as she dropped her head back against her seat.

\-----

“Where are we?” She wondered as they began to descend, in the valley of some mountain.

“Somewhere west of Kuching. Malaysia.” Coulson replied, paying careful attention not to hit any trees as they got closer to the ground.

“ _Malaysia_? You brought _me_ to an island?” Skye asked incredulously. He raised his eyebrow a little, sparing only a glance toward her as he found an open area to land.

“The perfect place to hide.” He pointed out, and she frowned, knowing he was right. “No one will look twice if a small quake is felt in this area. It’s almost an everyday occurrence.”

“I get it,” She muttered, “just not sure if I like it.”

“Well,” He replied shortly, “I don’t like it much either, but there’s a safe house here and we need to lay low. This is it.” He clenched his jaw as the car jarred a bit when the wheels touched the ground, and she took a closer look at him. He was bleeding from cuts on his hands, arms, and a rather deep-looking one just above his eyebrow, and he was sitting a little oddly in the seat.

“You’re hurt,” she realized softly, and his fingers gripped the wheel tightly for a second.

“Mount Serapi, specifically,” he replied, ignoring her comment. “This safe house isn’t on any known maps. I have a few like this, listed in Fury’s Toolbox. No one, SHIELD or otherwise, knows of its existence.”

She looked around as they drove down a small dirt road, though it could hardly be called a road. It was more of a pathway through the trees. There didn’t seem to be any buildings or other signs of life near them. The first building appeared suddenly, a very small section of trees cut out to make just enough room for a small house. The roof was sloped and scalloped; it almost looked like a temple of some sort. He glanced over to see her mouth open slightly in surprise, and he grinned a little.

“From satellite shots, it looks like any other prayer building that could be found in the area. I helped redesign it,” He said a little proudly, and she shook her head slightly.

“So _this_ is what you’ve been doing…” She murmured, brushing her hair out of her face. She winced when her cheek stung, and she brushed her fingers against it carefully. They came away stained with blood, and then she started to feel the effects of the adrenalin wearing off – she was hurting a bit. “I think I’m hurt, too,” She realized, and after he pulled the car to a stop in the garage, he looked over her with concern.

“I need to send word out to May that we’re safe,” He said, turning the engine off, “and then we’ll assess the damage. The bathroom is outfitted to provide medical support for most issues; it should definitely have some bandages.” She nodded and they both climbed out. He opened the door that led into the house and gestured for her to enter first. “Scanning system checked us as soon as we entered the garage. No booby-traps.” He assured her with a smirk. She gave him a dry look, but didn’t say anything as she moved through the house.

It was fairly easy to follow. After walking through a laundry room, the main part of the house was a large, open space; the kitchen, a small eating area, and living area. The front door looked simple enough, but after having stayed at the other safe house, she wasn’t worried about anyone just walking in. She crossed to the hallway, guessing from the three closed doors which one was the bathroom. Picking the first on the right, she opened it to reveal a surprisingly large bathroom – it featured a tub, a separate shower, two sinks, a toilet, and a decent amount of counter space. There was a towel rack in the back corner, but there was a suspiciously large amount of open floor space between there and the toilet, so she prodded around the shelves a bit. Finding a latch, she released a handle from the wall and pulled on it, stepping back as the rack pulled down, revealing a long table.

A human sized table at the perfect height for operating on an unconscious body. She swallowed, pushing the table up and hiding it behind the towel rack once more.

“Medical support for most issues.” She repeated under her breath. “I’ll say.” She turned back toward the counters, kneeling down to open the doors and check out what was underneath the sinks. “Ah, perfect,” She grabbed the med-kit box and set it up on the counter, pulling out a bottle of saline and a package of extra gauze pads. If his wounds were anything like hers – and they were probably worse, since he had positioned himself to take the brunt of the damage – they were going to need a lot of gauze. She gathered everything in her arms, wincing as few cuts announced their presence in the stinging sensation that shot through her limbs.

The kitchen had an island counter, and she dumped the medical supplies on top of it and began hunting through the cabinets for a couple bowls. Coulson was sitting at the table, a laptop open in front of him.

“I’ve sent out the signal. It’s encrypted and bounces around at least twenty other systems before pinging in Italy. They won’t find us through it.” He assured, closing the laptop. “Regardless if the signal is intercepted, May will be the only one to understand it. We’ll need to wait here until I receive confirmation from her.”

He moved slowly toward one of the bar stools, sliding onto it carefully. Skye raised her eyebrow at him as he winced, trying to reach up and pull off his vest. He hissed and dropped his arm into his lap, giving Skye a look.

“I’ve dislocated my shoulder. Skye…” He started to explain, and she nodded, pursing her lips.

“One of my foster brothers used to do that all the time. I know how to set it.” She told him, setting the bowls on the counter and moving closer to pull the Velcro straps apart of the vest. He gritted his teeth as it jarred his body, but didn’t make a sound. She lifted it over his head and dropped it on the ground, moving behind him and putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his back. “This is going to hurt,” She said apologetically, and watched him set his jaw.

“I know.”

She pulled quickly, knowing that if she tried to be gentle, it wouldn’t set correctly. The pop was not a pleasant sound whatsoever, and she tried not to gag. He groaned through his teeth, breathing slowly and deeply a few times.

“Thank you.” He said after a moment, shifting his shoulder carefully. He nodded and turned his head a little to speak over his shoulder, “It’s good.”

When she didn’t say anything, and didn’t appear to be moving, he turned a bit further to look at her.

“Coulson…” She murmured, pressing her thumb more firmly against his shoulder blade.

“That bad, huh?” He chuckled lightly, turning his head toward the window that was above the sink. “It stung a little to sit back against the seat in the car.” He admitted.

“There’s blood all over your shirt. I need to make sure there isn’t any _building_ imbedded in your back,” She quickly moved back in front of him, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

“I can do it myself,” He started, reaching up to still her hands, suddenly appearing nervous.

“Not your _back_ ,” She said pointedly, brushing his hands away and continuing to pull open the buttons. He grimaced but slowly rested his hands in his lap, letting her work. He avoided her face as she opened his shirt, revealing bare skin. She pushed the shirt off of his shoulders slowly, but otherwise didn’t hesitate before moving back to the med-kit and preparing everything; dumping some saline into one of the bowls, pulling out a couple pairs of tweezers and dropping them in, letting them sterilize as she opened a packet of gauze. He glanced toward her, but saw nothing in her expression except determination, and looked down at his own chest.

Still there, long and terrifying. It was the position of it more than anything – right over his heart, and obviously not as clean as a surgical scar. He looked back up as she picked up some gauze with the tweezers, dipping it into the saline as well. She shook the drips off and stepped behind him, getting to work immediately. The scar on his back was cleaner, so he wasn’t as uncomfortable with her seeing that one.

“Looks like most of these are small. There’s some gravel, and maybe small pieces of wood? Must’ve been a pallet or something we didn’t see…” She spoke quietly as she cleaned his wounds. He tried not to move, between the stinging of the saline and the brush of her fingers against his skin. She finished with his back rather quickly, though she pulled some butterfly bandages out of the kit after she dropped the tweezers back into the saline. He watched some small drops of blood swirl through the clear liquid, and imagined some of it was blue. He shook his head and looked up at Skye, seeing her bite at her bottom lip.

“Worse than a couple of scratches, I guess?” He spoke up, and she nodded.

“There’s two cuts that look pretty deep. This should work for now, though.” She paid closer attention to him, and he squirmed a little. “That one on your forehead is gonna need one of these, too.” She finally said, and moved back behind him without looking below his face. He realized she was pointedly avoiding looking at his chest, and he inwardly sighed with appreciation. Her fingers pressed firmly against his lower back, directly over tense muscle. He flinched, and she apologized.

“That didn’t… hurt.” He replied lamely, and there was a beat of silence that almost became awkward, until she pressed the other bandage in place just between his shoulder blade and spine.

“Alright,” She murmured, “let’s see that eyebrow.” She stood in front of him, and he obliged by raising the unwounded brow. She rolled her eyes at him and picked up clean gauze, dipping it in saline and then dabbing it against his forehead. “Ok, smartass.” She focused on cleaning the wound, and he focused on her face.

“You have some wounds, yourself,” He reminded her, lifting his arm under hers to brush his thumb against her cheek, just under an inch-long cut that ran horizontal across the bone. She frowned and pulled away from his hand.

“Don’t or I’ll get this in your eye.” She chided him, and he chuckled dryly.

“Too bad I wouldn’t be the first Director with an eyepatch.” He replied, earning another eye roll. Some saline got into a particularly deep part of the cut and he hissed, flinching his head away from her. She looked at him sternly and placed one hand against the side of his head, holding him still.

“I told you this was going to hurt.”

“I’m fine.” He grumbled. “This is hardly the worst I’ve been hurt.”

“Yeah…” The gauze hesitated near his skin, and he realized her eyes had dropped to the scar on his chest. She looked so sad, he couldn't stand that look on her face.

“Skye,” He whispered urgently, not quite pleading, and she jerked her gaze back toward his forehead.

“Sorry.” She breathed, and finished cleaning the blood away quickly. She carefully placed the bandage so it wouldn’t hinder his eye, brushing her thumb against his temple. He held her gaze for a long moment, something soft and caring behind the glint in her eyes. She seemed to realize she was holding his face between her hands, and quickly pulled away, busying her hands with the med-kit.

“C’mon, Skye,” Coulson said, getting to his feet and resting his hands on her shoulders, pushing her toward the stool. “Switch places.” His hands were a bit scratched up too, but he would manage. Other than dust, grime, and what was probably _his_ blood, she seemed okay save for the cut on her cheek. “Any broken bones?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No, doctor.” She said cheekily, but looked obviously nervous when he lifted the saline-soaked gauze in front of her face.

“This might hurt,” he teased, and just as she opened her mouth to retort something, he pressed the gauze against her cut. She yelped and snapped her mouth shut, and he smirked. Once it was clean and bandaged, he smoothed the edges of the bandage down carefully, selfishly reveling in the feeling of her smooth skin beneath his palm. She was looking up at him while he worked, but as if she felt subconscious about such prolonged eye contact with him, she soon dropped her gaze. She bit her lip again, now eye level with the scar on his chest.

Being eye level with his chest was hard to deal with in its own right – he was fairly fit, and he had a smattering of fine, light colored hair across his chest that led a small line down his stomach, widening a little just before it disappeared beneath the waistline of his trousers. Jerking her eyes away from that dangerous route, she looked back at his scar, examining its shape.

“I’m so sorry.” She said, and he looked a little confused, his hand slowly falling to his side.

“About…?”

“This,” She said, resting the tips of her fingers against his pectoral muscle, her thumb hovering over the scar. “Everything that had to do with this. That you’re stuck with this unavoidable reminder about all of that.” He looked down at her for a moment, confused look still on his face. Finally, he said,

“You have some cuts on your arms, too. Let me clean those.” He turned to the side to prepare some more gauze in the saline. Skye frowned at herself, shaking her head a little. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for that, Skye,” He said very quietly, moving slower than necessary with the gauze. “It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but I’m still _sorry_.” She said earnestly, and he faced her again.

“ _Why_?” He asked incredulously, and she looked at him like he was crazy.

“Well, it can’t be _pleasant_ ,” She pointed out, and he got this look on his face, like he’d eaten something sour.

“If it bothers you that much I can go find a clean shirt,” He spoke shortly, dropping the gauze onto the counter and stepping toward the hall. Skye quickly jumped up and reached for his arm, stopping his exit.

“ _That’s not what I meant_ ,” She said quickly, frustrated and a little insulted that he would think she was so petty. “Maybe – maybe _I_ just don’t like the reminder, okay? The thought of you in that kind of pain… I don’t like _that_.” She told him, and he deflated rather quickly. He furrowed his brow for a second, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Oh. Skye,”

“I can’t believe you thought I would be bothered by the way you _look_! I mean, come on!” Skye exclaimed, gesturing toward his body. He raised his eyebrow and looked down at himself, then back up at her.

“Skye?” He turned his head to the side a little. She blinked at him, then quickly slipped back onto the stool.

“Finish helping me out, here? Please?” She lifted her right arm up, and he hesitated only a moment before nodding and resuming his post.

“So… the way I look doesn’t bother you?” He wondered, trying to make the question light, but she could tell he was genuinely concerned about her answer.

“Not in a _bad_ way,” She admitted, looking at his face while he cleaned the blood off of her arm. His hand cradled her forearm gently while he dabbed the gauze on the cuts with his other hand. He set the gauze back on the table once he was finished, but he didn’t let go of her arm. His thumb brushed across her wrist, back and forth, and he had a thoughtful look on his face. Skye decided to try one step further, and stretched her fingers out over his forearm, mimicking his actions. He didn’t pull away from her or act like she was doing anything wrong, so she slid her hand further up his arm, across his collarbone, over his pectoral. She moved slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to grab her wrist and stop her, but he didn’t. She lifted her other hand to start a path at his other elbow, moving the same direction over his collarbone and chest until both of her hands were side by side. His chest rose under her palms as he breathed in deeply, and she moved her fingers down, brushing across his nipples and around his ribcage. His stomach muscles twitched but he didn’t pull back; if anything he relaxed even further as she explored his torso. When her hands finally moved back upward, brushing through his chest hair, he sucked in a breath and she sighed appreciatively.

“Hmm, I’ve always wanted to do that,” She murmured, running her fingertips along the line of his jaw, her touch feather-light. He was watching her softly, standing there with his hands at his sides, eyes half closed as he enjoyed her inspection of him.

“Skye…” Her name was barely a breath, and his eyes closed when her thumb brushed across his bottom lip. His lips pressed against the pad of her thumb, almost not even a kiss, but when she didn’t pull her thumb away he opened his mouth to take it between his teeth, sucking lightly on the tip of her finger.

Her sharp intake of breath sounded suddenly loud, and he opened his eyes to see her staring hungrily at his mouth. He smirked around her finger, releasing it and continuing to give her that little grin. Her hand slid further back along his jaw, her blunt nails scraping along the skin behind his ears, and then he had her head in his hands and he was yanking her toward him as he tilted his head to reach her. Their lips fit together surprisingly well, as if they had been kissing long before this. He wasn’t timid, but his kiss was soft, even has his lips moved hungrily over hers.

How he could manage such an innocent and extremely alluring thing all at once was beyond her. She moaned into his mouth, and just as he tentatively touched his tongue to her lips, she was thrusting hers against his. They battled for dominance of the kiss for a while, but eventually he let her take over, knowing it was useless to try and pretend that he didn’t enjoy what she was doing to him.

He turned to lean against the counter, making a noise of approval when she leaned her body against him. He couldn't be embarrassed about how desperately he was holding her, because her grip was just as desperate. Her hands raked through his hair and he grunted when she pressed her body as close to his as possible, pushing him into the counter. She grinned against his mouth, and he slipped his hands around her back and down to her backside, grabbing her suddenly and lifting her up. She made a surprised noise, resting her knees on the counter on either side of him, pulling her mouth away from his to catch her breath. He held onto her tightly, looking at her with a very serious expression.

She laced her fingers together behind his neck, making sure to meet his gaze directly for a few seconds, before nodding. He readjusted his grip under her thighs and stood up straight, moving away from the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her chin up as he kissed her neck, carrying her into the hallway.

\-----

Just waking up knowing that Coulson was sleeping next to her was enough to make her warm and tingly all over, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea for either of them to be doing too much strenuous activity. It was already stupid enough that they had had sex right after enduring such a physically taxing mission.

Well, _stupid_ wasn’t exactly her first word for it. It probably wasn’t even her fifth word for it. She grinned and shifted onto her side, propping her head up on her hand as she looked him over. He was sprawled flat on his back, one arm thrown above his head, the sheet _just_ barely covering the bit of a hard-on he had. Skye grinned widely, and couldn't help but reach out and trail her fingers along the inside of his bicep, admiring his arms. He flinched and grumbled, his brow furrowing as he awoke.

“Ugghhh, I feel like I got hit by a truck,” He mumbled, his voice low and rough from sleep. She shivered a little, pulling the sheet up further and tucking herself closer to him, moving onto her back and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, we probably should be taking it easy…” She said, tilting her hip to the side until it popped, and then sighed and relaxed. She felt him turn his head toward her, and his lips pressed against her hair.

“We could stay in, order room service.” He joked, and she chuckled, stretching her arms and legs out while making a pleased noise. She wiggled closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her, tracing patterns on top of her hip.

“I wish,” she sighed. “I’m hungry, though. We should find some food.” She didn’t move, though, and his fingers against her skin started to move in a more deliberate manner.

“The place is stocked well with non-perishable items. We should be good. There’s even coffee,” He informed her, but it was obvious he was more focused on other things.

“You’re hungry too, I see.” She mused dryly, and he groaned.

“That was horrible.” He told her, and she lifted her head to see him close his eyes and shake his head in disappointment. She laughed, twisting so she could kiss his jaw, which was scruffier than usual.

“Hm,” She said thoughtfully, running her fingers across his chin. “You may need to grow this out. Disguise yourself.”

“You have a boyfriend I need to worry about?” He teased, raising an eyebrow, and she shrugged, moving to straddle his thighs.

“Yeah, and he’s kind of my boss, too. I imagine he’d be pretty pissed if he knew about you.”

“The jealous type?” Coulson spoke a little shortly, his hands coming to rest on her hips as she played her fingers across his hipbone. She made a face as if she were considering his question, stroking him languidly as if it were a side thought. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and clenched his jaw, holding in the moan at the image of her on top of him, at the feeling of her bare skin against his.

“No,” Skye finally said, “he’s too good to have anything to be jealous of.” She grinned at him coyly, twisted her wrist a little, and he did release a loud groan at that. She was working him slowly, slower than he would have liked, but it was also _incredible_ , and he didn’t want her to stop any time soon. He knew she was watching him, observing him almost, but he didn’t mind. He’d kind of done the same to her the night before, memorizing the way she looked and the noises she made. He felt himself grow harder just remembering the look on her face when he’d made her come, and he opened his eyes.

“Skye, wait,” He gasped, feeling his muscles start to tense up, “Stop,” and she did, immediately. He felt very bereft when she removed her hand from him, but he quickly reached up to pull her down against him, kissing her deeply, his erection pressing between their stomachs. When he had her humming against him he rolled over on top of her, lifting her knees around him and sliding down to kiss her neck, her breasts, her stomach. She kept her knees pressed against his ribcage when he moved a hand down between her legs, and he was surprised by how aroused she was already. He slipped his middle finger into her, sliding in and out of her just as slowly as she had been with his dick. She immediately arched her back into him, wanting more, and he added another finger, but didn’t speed up his movements. He watched curiously as her expression turned from wanting, to pleased, to frustrated, and she finally opened her eyes and narrowed her gaze at him. He grinned coyly, slipping his fingertip around her clit three times before pushing back into her. She leaned her head back and groaned, and he took the opportunity to pay very close attention to her neck with his lips. As he sucked at the skin, he rubbed his fingers against her clit again, and she moaned.

“ _Coulson_.” He pressed firmly against her and she gasped, her hips lifting upwards. “Yes,” she encouraged him, her hands on his back, careful of his wounds. When her breathing started to really speed up, he slowed down almost to a complete stop, playing with her folds instead. She growled in frustration, but he continued to kiss her softly, pressing his tongue against the mark he had made on her neck. “Dammit, Coulson!” She thrust her hips up against him hard, calling attention to his still very present erection, and he grunted.

“What?” He asked innocently, pulling his hands completely away so he could support himself above her. “Oh. This?” He wondered, dipping his hips low to rub his dick against her. He tried to ignore how good it felt to him, and focused on her.

“ _God_ , yes!” Skye pulled at him, wanting his weight against her, and he finally obliged, reaching down to push himself into her. “Fuck, Coulson,” She breathed, and her insisting hands became more gentle, running along his back and gripping his arms as he thrust into her slowly.

“Language,” Coulson chided, though his playful frown was offset by his labored breathing. She gave him a look that said she knew _exactly_ how much he was holding back to not come before her, and she lifted her knees higher, changing the angle a little. He shifted his arms so her legs were propped over his shoulders, and they both groaned at the deeper angle.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Skye said a little louder, not entirely just as a retort. “ _Yes_.”

He smiled, watching as she closed her eyes and pressed her head back into the pillow, and began moving in earnest, finally helping her get to that release. When she clenched around him, hard, he came with a gasp, a little surprised by them coming at the same time. He kept moving for a minute, drawing it out as long as he could, until he finally couldn't any more. He carefully lowered her legs, but before he could roll off of her she pulled him down on top of her, tangling her legs with his so he would stay.

They breathed heavily against one another in silence until their heart rates returned to normal, and she let him roll onto his back next to her.

“Now I’m _really_ hungry.” Skye said, and he laughed, turning his head to look at her. She was grinning at him, a spark in her eye that made him want to kiss her again. She saw his eyes drop to her lips, and she laughed, sitting up and pushing at him. “No way. We’ve seen where _that_ gets us, and we need _food_ before any more physical activity.” He pouted a little as she moved to the edge of the bed, waiting a minute before standing up. “Of course, I think we both want coffee, first. And coffee could be enjoyed in bed.” She grinned at him, and he gave her a playful look.

“Yes, that is very true.” He agreed, and she stood to move toward the dresser, digging through the drawers, hoping he couldn't see how shaky her legs felt. He leaned across the bed on his elbow, watching as she pulled out a white button down.

“Are all these yours? They look freshly laundered,” She turned to raise her eyebrow at him as she slipped it on, buttoning it across her chest.

“The clothes are probably the newest addition to the safe house,” he told her. “And yes, that particular drawer happens to have shirts in my size.” He looked very appreciative of the view, his eyes sliding down to where the ends of the shirt hung mid-thigh on her legs. She rolled the sleeves up just above her elbows, buttoning the cuffs so they wouldn’t slide back down her arms too far. She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she shut the drawer, lifting the collar to press it against her nose.

“Hm, they seem to have been washed in the same detergent you use. What a coincidence.” She teased him, and he raised an eyebrow at her. She winked and definitely swung her hips a little more than necessary as she slipped out of the room, her heart lifting as she heard his lighthearted chuckle behind her.

She grinned widely at the thought of bringing Coulson a cup of coffee in bed, his hair tousled and his skin deliciously bare and flushed with post-sex sweat. She did a little skip-step into the kitchen, but froze immediately, her smile dropping into a look of horror. There was a woman sitting at the table, calmly sipping from a mug.

It was May. And she was smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“Good morning, Skye.” She said rather happily, and Skye swallowed hard, suddenly feeling incredibly naked under Coulson’s shirt. “Enjoying the amenities of the safe house?” She asked innocently, still sipping from her mug, and Skye felt her throat go dry.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. There was a beat of silence, broken by footsteps approaching from behind Skye.

“I think we’re going to need a little more breakfast than just coffee – ” Coulson spoke lightly as he entered from the hall, shifting a pair of sleep pants across his hips, freezing in place when he realized they weren’t alone.

“Phil.” May greeted with an amused eyebrow, still sitting in that chair as if two of her coworkers _weren’t_ standing there mostly naked.

“May,” Coulson’s voice hitched a moment, then he asked in relative calm, “so, when did you get here?” Skye was impressed his voice was so level. She wasn’t sure if she had a voice, anymore.

“Oh, sometime around ‘God yes’ and ‘fuck yes’.” She replied, lifting her eyebrows at him over the rim of her mug. Skye heard his sharp intake of breath, but still refused to look at him, keeping her eyes at some neutral spot in the space around May.

“I… wasn’t expecting you to pick us up so soon.” He said, and she snorted quietly.

“Obviously.” She set her mug on the table. There was a long, awkward silence, and Skye finally muttered,

“I’m going to go get dressed.” As she slipped by Coulson, her eyes still averted, he brushed his fingers against her arm supportively.

“So,” she heard May’s voice drift down the hall, “how long has this been going on?” To her, May’s tone sounded carefully neutral, but Skye knew she had to be concerned.

“The sex, or…” Coulson asked, and Skye grimaced. She would have liked to keep this new development in their relationship on the down low, for a while. Keep it to themselves until they both felt it was time for the rest of the team to know. Of course, she also knew how ridiculous it was to try and hide something like this from _spies_ , and figured it was probably for the better that May knew now.

“Phil, I’ve known you’ve loved her for quite a while now. You know what I’m asking.” May finally sounded more than neutral; she sounded fed up, as if she were talking to an obstinate eight year old.

“Yesterday,” he answered, and there was a beat of silence.

“I see both of you were injured. If this was adrenaline induced, Coulson, you know that could make things… difficult.” May told him carefully, and Skye frowned. While the adrenaline had certainly played a part in starting all of it, there was no way it had anything to do with this morning.

“May,” Coulson told her firmly but gently, “we’ve had too many missions together for that to be a factor.”

“True. You probably would’ve jumped one another in the hallway or something, by this point.” May mused, and Skye choked, her fingers fumbling at the button of her jeans. They were silent again, and she hurriedly threw her shirt on, bringing out the one she had been wearing to give to Coulson.

“Here,” She said to him when she entered the kitchen, feeling much more sure of herself. He was leaning against the island counter, and caught the shirt she tossed to him. He seemed to blush a little when he realized it was the one she had just been wearing, but he slipped it on quickly.

“Well,” May said companionably, leaning back in her chair, “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet either, so we can leave afterwards.”

Coulson and Skye glanced at one another warily, and May hid a small grin as Coulson sighed and went back into the room to finish getting changed, and Skye started pulling dishes out to work on breakfast.

* * *

 


End file.
